


For the bridges we've burned

by Oaklin



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: (SERIOUSLY), (abrupt scene transitions), (always with the melodrama i swear), (at least they get their happily ever after somewhere), (hot librarian fetish?), (is it possible for me to write anyone who is just happy?), (it's like a sitcom in here), (not for Seth and Dean though), (not sponsored by gatorade), AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Boring Adult Life, Christmas Fluff, Cliche, Developing Relationship, Domesticity, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family Dynamics, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Glasses, House Fires, M/M, Not Kayfabe Compliant, Past Drug Addiction, Poor Fire Safety, Recovering Alcoholic, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Swearing, Troubled Past, babies ever after, cooking gone wrong, dysfunction junction, eventual Seth/Dean, physical affection, probably all sorts of problematic things in here, stealth shipping, this will probably get Mature eventually, well relatively slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 19:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12139026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: Just one evening over at Seth's house, making dinner for their girlfriends.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Light up the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuckyLucy92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLucy92/gifts).



> Well, this is not my forte.
> 
> Ahem. So, hello. I'm Okalin, and this particular pairing is not my usual thing. I'm a Steenerico kinda fanfic-er, I don't usually do Shield, so bear with me on this one. Not that I'm snubbing any combination of ships or anything, I'm up for whatever ship-wise. I just never go out of my way to write about anything other than my otp and Steenerico. Just fair warning, if this is not what is popular in the Ambrollins tag right now, sorry about that. I've got this tentatively down for 6 chapters right now, but I'm not the most consistent person ever.
> 
> This is a request fic, that got out of hand rapidly, because they always do with me. Now, I know everyone is probably super up into the whole Tag Team Shenanigans(tm) and the Will They Or Won't They (mostly Dean) Do The Betrayal Thing, given what is going down on Raw right now, but alas, this is AU. Sorry, I just didn't see a point in adding wrestling to this, as this is not really about that. I went ahead and used Kayfabe names for everyone, and real names for everyone who has no Kayfabe name, just to simplify things. Or make things more complicated, I suppose ^.^
> 
> Also, puny title is puny. I'm not sorry.

“Shit,” Seth mutters, a slight tinge of panic in his voice. He lurches across the kitchen, fumbling the spatula that he is holding, pausing for only a split second to watch it hurtle to the ground. Unable to save the utensil, he instead returns his focus to the much more pressing matter.

“Goddamnit to hell,” he curses, opening the oven door, only remembering at the last second that his oven mitts are over on the counter next to the sink. Pursing his lips in annoyance, he lifts the bottom of his shirt up, sliding his hands under the fabric and awkwardly using it to lever the smoking lasagna out of the fuming oven.

Waving a hand in front of his face, he coughs a few times, grimacing at the mess. The dish is almost completely burnt, the tasty sauce he spent so long meticulously preparing burned a nasty looking muddy color, the cheese black and flaky. Sighing, he slams the oven door shut, grumbling out a few more expletives as he jerks his t-shirt back down. Stamping over to the fallen spatula, he yanks it up off the floor, tossing it into the sink with an aggravated huff.

“Can anything else go wrong?” he snaps to no one in particular, wiping burned cheese off of his hands onto his shirt with a sneer of disgust.

Just as he has the thought, the fire alarm goes right the fuck off. Because of course it does. Why not.

“Okay, new plan,” Seth decides, stalking over and yanking the smoke alarm off the ceiling, tearing the back off and the batteries out with an indignant growl. Satisfied and less aggravated now that the shrill noise has stopped, he plonks it down on the counter to be put back up later, heading over to haul one of the kitchen windows open to accelerate the airing-out process.

“Also, this is all your fucking fault,” Seth adds with a hiss, pointing a single accusing finger as he tentatively checks on the slab of beef resting on the stove top. Thankfully, much to his relief, it seems fine, no worse for wear from the smoke or the commotion.

Knowing their luck, he figured it had just spontaneously combusted on the stove, burned to a crisp like the lasagna.

“Hey, my dude, I did nothing. I was just sitting here, chopping vegetables like the good little- what the hell did you call me earlier?”

Seth casts a glare to their ruined dinner, tempted to upend the casserole dish onto his companion’s head. “A rabid hyena? Also, _not_ your dude.”

“No, no. The other one. The one you called me out in the garage, when I broke your-”

“How the fuck is it even **possible** to break a fucking socket wrench? Do you know how long I’ve had that set?”

Dean shrugs, his incisors glinting in the kitchen light, a devilish look in his eyes. “With finesse! And a gentle hand.”

Seth snorts, not amused in the slightest as he scrapes noodles and tomato sauce and charred cheese into the garbage disposal. “That is literally no one’s definition of ‘gentle’.” He throws the now emptied dish into the sink and blasts it with hot water, not impressed with he way the noodles got immolated to the ceramic. “A scruffy, homeless looking high school dropout with mommy issues like you should know his fucking way around a goddamn car, Dean. Surely that is like, the only job you would qualify for anyway.”

Dean rolls his eyes, casting a snide look towards Seth that gets ignored. “Don’t typecast. I’ve never fixed a fucking car in my life. You profiling now?”

“Fair point. Also fuck you. And it was ‘vaguely autistic looking slow loris’,” Seth says through clenched teeth, concentrating on scrubbing the casserole dish with vigor that he is unsure will be enough to save Renee’s favorite serving dish.

Dean snaps his fingers, turning slightly, with that stupid, ‘ah ha!’ look on his face. He flashes a smile at no one in particular, grinning at the ceiling like he is thinking about something hilarious, before the moment is over and he side-eyes Seth with a wry, humorless smirk that is all teeth and shitty facial hair.

“Right! Now I remember. I gotta say dude, that was a good one.” Dean goes back to meticulously chopping vegetables, every once and a while fiddling with the knobs on the crock pot beside him. The blessed silence lasts for a precious few heartbeats, Seth still scrubbing away and Dean tending to his greenery, before Dean opens his big mouth again.

“Hey, by the way, what is a slow loris, anyway?”

"Cathy and Renee are going to be here in about," Seth checks his watch, "Three and a half minutes."

Dean looks the picture of innocence, his eyes going wide and confused as he dangles a green bean around in the air like the child that he is. "Yeah? Why is that so important?"

Seth grinds his teeth, trying to internally reason with himself that he is not allowed to murder his girlfriend's house guests. "Because you were the one who suggested that we cook them dinner before they got home as a surprise."

Dean scoffs. "Man, you are such a worry wort. Stop being such a pussy, get that roast together, and lets make the most of what we have. Fuckin' drama queen."

Dean goes back to his vegetables, but not before tossing the green bean dangling from his fingers.

It hits Seth in the forehead.

* * *

“That pizza was so shitty,” Dean declares loudly, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and lounging backward in the armchair.

“The pizza was fine,” Renee amends, glancing over from her in depth conversation with Cathy about- whatever the hell those two talk about all the time.

“It was not,” Seth says, hating to have to agree with Dean. “But we wouldn’t have had to order pizza in the first place if you had kept an eye on dinner.”

“You were in charge of the lasagna. I was veggie guy,” Dean replies, wobbling his head back and forth as he speaks, as if jamming out to some music only he can hear.

“You were the one who started a stupid fucking food fight in the middle of-”

Cathy and Renee abruptly stop talking to each other and turn to them, twin looks of annoyance on their faces.

“Could you two just calm down and try to enjoy our evening together?” Cathy says, her eyes traveling between Seth and Dean like she is waiting for them to jump on each other and beat each other to a pulp.

“Failing that, could you two just shut up and let us enjoy our time together? If you two want to make each other miserable, go ahead, but you don’t need to punish us because you two are too stubborn to find some common ground,” Renee adds, with a slightly irritated glance at Dean, tinted with a distinct thread of affection as she turns back to Cathy.

The two continue their conversation like nothing happened, leaving Seth and Dean to eye each other wryly.

“Alright, fine. I guess ‘whipped’ is something we both have in common,” Seth can’t help but say, the snark slipping out before he assesses the fact that it feels far too much like jovial companionship with a man that he has zero interest in having such a playful interaction with.

Dean just smirks and shrugs, pulling his feet down off the coffee table and humming along to whatever song is still playing in his head. They sit there in relative silence, the only sound in the room the soft murmurs of their girlfriend's conversation. Seth leans back, flopping his arm across the back of the love seat behind Cathy’s back, the sereneness of the moment -despite the less than desirable company- not lost on him, regardless of how disastrous the day had been.

Eventually, Cathy and Renee decide that they have visited enough, going to gather their bags from the kitchen. Dean actually sets about gathering up their half empty wine glasses, sneering at Seth when Seth raises an eyebrow.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, Sethy-poo?”

Seth indicates the dishes in Dean’s hands, backing towards the kitchen and cocking his head at the delinquent in his living room. “Aren’t you still recovering? Should you be handling alcohol?”

Dean’s sneer turns brittle for a moment, something flashing through his eyes that Seth doesn’t catch.

Not that he cares.

“Fuck you. I go to my meetings. I don’t even- Alcohol wasn’t even really something I had that much trouble putting down. It was the other stuff that was- you know what, never you goddamn mind. I don’t need to justify myself to you,” Dean says, squaring his shoulders and stalking passed Seth, their shoulders colliding harshly as Dean stalks down the hallway to the kitchen.

Seth blinks for heartbeat, resisting the urge to ask what the fuck just happened, wondering why Dean even said any of that to begin with. Uncomfortable with the odd atmosphere, he shrugs to the empty room and follows everyone else into the kitchen, arriving just in time to hear something smash loudly to the floor.

“Oh, that is just amazing.”

“Shit. Why was that-” Cathy starts, picking up the tattered fire alarm that Seth had completely forgotten about in the earlier chaos.

Renee takes it, fiddling with the circuitry for a moment, her face getting progressively more concerned, “I don’t- my coat was...”

Seth sighs, a deep frown forming on his face. “We set it off earlier. I took it down and forgot to put it back up. You knocked it off the table when you picked up your coat?”

Renee flashes him an apologetic look, “Yes. Sorry. I‘ll cover the new one.”

“Don't worry about it. I ruined your casserole dish, you broke our fire alarm. Evensies,” Seth waves her off, trying for reassuring, though he isn't super worried.

“Well that is just fuckin’ great. Better hope you don’t have any house fires tonight,” Dean says with a cackle, tossing the dishwasher closed as he spins around, punctuating the words with a grin that earns him a disapproving noise from Renee.

“We have a fire alarm on the top floor genius. I’ll go buy a new one tomorrow, don’t worry,” Seth assures Cathy, who is worrying her lip and looking concerned.

She shrugs in response, watching Renee toss down the shattered alarm with uncertainty, “We’ve never had a fire before. The poor thing never even got to get a proper workout before we shattered it into a million pieces.”

They all let out slightly stressed, stilted laughter at Cathy’s attempt to lighten the mood, humoring each other as they shuffle towards the front door, the ladies saying their goodbyes and a strained, tense silence hanging between Seth and Dean. They don’t say anything to each other, Seth accepting the hug and cheek kiss from Renee, tossing Dean a halfhearted wave as the lovebirds make their way out to their car.

“Well, that was exiting. You want to stay up and watch a movie or something?” Cathy asks, curling a hand around Seth’s forearm as they head back inside the house.

Seth lets out a breath, shaking his head with an apologetic smile. “Not really no, sorry. I’m kind of exhausted. Raincheck?”

Cathy laughs as Seth bends down, taking her hand up and planting a kiss on the back of her palm. “You are so cheesy. Get yourself upstairs and rest, you sleepy old man. I’m gonna stay up and finish that story I was drafting earlier.”

Seth snorts as he makes his way over to the stairs, grinning over his shoulder at her, “Yeah, right. You’re gonna stay up and watch Spirited Away for the seven billionth time. I can see you thinking about it already.”

“Listen! Just because you don’t appreciate Hayao Miyazaki’s genius doesn’t mean you can knock the classics! It’s for research purposes.” Cathy loudly defends herself as she shoves him towards the stairs.

Seth turns around, grinning into a kiss goodnight. “Sure thing babe, you go research that article about faulty pipelines in the downtown square by watching saccharine animu. Don’t let me stop you from living the dream.”

“Ug. Just go sleep off that mouth of yours, you tasteless stick in the mud. I’ve got... **work**... to do, I’ll have you know!” Cathy says, planting one last kiss on his lips before whipping around and hustling over to the couch.

Seth shakes his head fondly and starts up the stairs, smiling when he hears her throw herself down on the sofa, scrambling through the messy pile of dvds they left on the floor, sighing contentedly when she finds the one she wants. He leaves her to it, slightly disappointed about missing out on some good old fashioned Ghibli, but sure that he would fall asleep face down in his popcorn if he tried to stay up.

The covers feel like heaven when he finally manages to scrape his way through a painfully brief shower and teeth brushing. Aware that he has papers that still need grading, he ignores the door to the study and heads straight for bed, falling onto of the sheets, too sleepy to even pull them back. He is eternally grateful that Vegas summers are the way that they are, so that he can be lazy as hell in times like these.

Cuddling down into the fabric, he lets himself drift off to sleep.

* * *

Seth wrinkles his nose in his sleep, wishing that that strange heaviness in the air would dissipate so that he could drift back to sleep. It persists though, and he lets out a startled sneeze, coughing into the dead silence of the room. Semi awake now, he sits up a bit, feeling another sneeze clawing at the back of his throat and wondering why he is having so much trouble breathing-

Wait. Shit.

He is up and out of bed before he even really gets his thoughts together, hoping with all his might that this is some sort of horrible nightmare. He can’t see any smoke, but he can absolutely smell it, thick and oppressive in the air as he bolts for the bedroom door. Just in case, he keeps low to the floor, snatching up a t-shirt to cover his mouth with.

Seth opens the hallway door, finding no smoke in the hallway either, but a stronger smell. Slight panic taking over, he pounds down the stairs, taking them two at a time, calling out in desperation, afraid of what he might see waiting for him in the living room-

“Cathy! Wake up-”

“Oh, thank fuck!” Seth lets out a horrible, needy, relieved groan as he slams into the person he most wants to see at the moment, “I’m- there is smoke somewhere, we need to go check where, but I needed to find you first,” Cathy gasps, the both of them hunkering against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, just clutching desperately at each other for a heartbeat, silently reassuring each other of their aliveness.

“Are you- never mind. Not the time. Fire department?” Seth rolls his eyes even as he barely manages to get anything articulate out, things that he wants to say flashing through his mind before almost immediately getting dismissed, the more pressing matters at hand taking precedence. They share a look, moving away from the wall as one.

“I mean, maybe it’s not that bad,” Cathy says, her tone unconvinced as she scrambles over to the coffee table, reaching for here phone.

Seth doesn’t reply as he walks across the living room, unnerved by how the heat is clearly getting more intense and the wisps of smoke he can see curling through the hallway. There is a musty, unpleasant smell under the smoke, and it bothers him more than the smoke itself. He edges down the hallway, breathing through the shirt clamped firmly over his face and a horrible suspicion eating away at him.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted that shady repairman,” Seth grumbles into the fabric covering his face.

“What the hell are you doing? Get back here you lunatic-” Cathy hisses at him, her phone to her ear as she lurches towards him, panic on her face.

Seth is about to explain himself, though even he is getting the idea that they should just respect fire safety 101 and go the hell outside and wait for the fire department there. The hallway is too hot, the wall paper is looking suspiciously browned along the edges of the kitchen door way and he is pretty sure that he is not imagining that disconcerting roar in his ears-

“Seth! Cathy!”

Said couple whips around, getting a perfect view as their front door slams inward, coming right off it’s hinges as an irate man comes bursting through the doorway like an angry dog.

Seth has never been so happy to see this particular irate dog in his entire life.

Especially when, as Seth makes eye contact with Roman, -taking a moment to internally coo over Roman’s look of fierce relief- a horrible, ear-splitting screech begins emanating from the kitchen. Eyes widening, all three of them decide, simultaneously, that this particular hallmark moment can wait until later. Seth and Cathy get up, hauling across the living room at breakneck speed, Cathy quipping tersely into her phone as they move. Apparently, their bustling is not enough for Roman Reigns, as he snatches them both up when they get to him, one under each arm, slamming his way out of the house the same way he came in.

Just in time too, as Seth hears a very reassuring and not at all ominous whoosh-ing as they exit, followed by a loud pop and a fizzle. Roman appears to hear it as well, and takes even larger steps, hustling away from the house, all the way across the street, dragging them the whole way.

Seth turns back towards the house as Roman sets them back on their feet, eyes widening at the smoke billowing out from the back of the house.

Which would explain why Roman burst through the door. Seth leans over to his brother, giving him a light punch on the shoulder, reaching his other hand out to squeeze Roman’s bicep. Cathy is still on the phone with the operator, so Seth doesn’t verbalize it now, but he sees the faint traces of panicky, desperate terror still lingering in Roman’s gaze. Unable to find the words to make those feeling go away, Seth just squeezes Roman a little tighter, the full impact of what must have been going through the poor guy's mind as he busted into the house settling over him.

“Sorry about your door,” Roman says, clapping Seth back. His tone is very soft as he leans down to scoop up Joelle, who looks on the verge of tears, though she is holding herself together remarkably well.

Seth accepts the one armed hug from Galina, Cathy and Roman getting pulled into it, the five of them just idling there, the only sound Cathy’s breathless answers to whatever questions the operator is asking her. Seth pulls in a breath, managing what he hopes is a reassuring smile to Joelle as he casts a look at Roman.

“Don’t worry about the door. I would have done the same thing,” Seth murmurs, pulling them all just a little tighter together at the thought, horror donning on him as he realizes how it could have been Roman’s house not theirs. They live right next to each other, it will be a miracle if this doesn’t wreck Roman’s house too-

“Okay,” Cathy says at last, ending the call to the emergency line and shoving her phone down her shirt, her pajama pants not having any pockets to speak of. She turns, flashing a tight smile at them, opening her mouth as if to speak.

Before she can get any words out, Seth becomes aware of blaring sirens. He is dazed enough that he honestly isn’t sure how long they have been going, but it doesn’t matter either way, as the fire truck is careening around the corner like it’s ass is on fire, screeching to a halt in front of their house.

Seth blinks, sharing a long look with Cathy as they all huddle there on the sidewalk, their other neighbors starting to flock out of their houses around them.

“Okay,” Cathy whispers quietly, the sounds of the firefighters calling out to each other and unloading the hose almost drowning her out. “What do we do now?”


	2. Like these lights were our saviors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a disaster is never pretty, or easy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. I have to like, NOT scream about all the outrageously ship-tastic shit that happened this week. I can do this, I swear I can. I was gonna switch this fic over to one a week, to get the request filled in a timely manner, but given what happened at HIAC (and the follow up on Smackdown) I'm definitely going to be screaming about Zowens next week. This will continue to be updated every other week. Sorry about that Lucky.
> 
> (Beware, if you are sensitive to that type of thing, Dean has some inaccurate and fairly unsympathetic thoughts about the struggles of others around himself)

Dean sighs softly into the covers, enjoying the silence of the night. Well, relative silence, at least. It is so peaceful here, with Renee, in their tiny two bedroom apartment, the muted sounds of the city echoing around them. He has always lived in the chaotic parts of the world, and Vegas is no different, but here, in this home, the rancor of city life seems to filter in from afar, through the contentment that he feels about his current life.

Dean smiles faintly into his pillow at the thought. He has never felt untouchable in his entire life. Not once. But he feels that way now, and for however long the sensation lasts, he plans on savoring it. He learned long ago that luxuries like safety and peace are precious commodities. This quiet, safe dream was his personal nirvana, and he could honestly say that he felt safe-ish here.

Well, at least as close to safe as a former street rat is capable of feeling.

Dean’s sleepy revery is interrupted by the obnoxious jingle of Renee’s cell, the little mechanical device warbling away on the bedside table, threatening to vibrate it’s way off the surface entirely. Dean rouses slightly, startled out of his introspective contemplation. He glances at the clock on his nightstand, blinking at the readout. He recalls Renee saying that, it being a Friday night, she wasn’t setting an alarm for Saturday morning. They had planned to sleep in.

So why the hell was...?

Ah. Phone call, not alarm.

Dean shakes his head, leaning over his sleeping girlfriend -holy crap can that girl sleep through anything- fumbling to get at the phone as it teeters precariously close to the edge of the nightstand.

He is so close, the very tips of his fingers brushing the hard plastic, when Renee finally wakes up. Unfortunately for Dean (always the worst luck possible) she sits up abruptly, knocking him from his already precarious position. He shrieks and flails, trying to ground himself to the bed with his legs. She seems to catch on to what is happening remarkably fast for someone who was just dead asleep (he would appreciate those quick reflexes more if his girlfriend was not in the process of knocking him out of their bed) so she does reach out, grasping at his arm as he goes crashing to the floor.

“Son of a fuck-!"

“M'm sorry! The hell is-"

“Phone!" he coughs, his legs tangled in the sheets and his back aching as he shuffles around on the floor, trying to shake the drowsiness of and get his bearings.

“Right, right,” Renee mumbles, more to herself than to him, snatching her cell up off the bedside table and answering. “Hello?” she grumbles sleepily, rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

Dean manages to get himself pulled up a bit, brushing discarded sheets of paper off of him (there had been a song stuck in his head last night. he never did manage to get the words to flow like the soft rain pattering through his skull) and finally getting his feet untangled from the sheets. He glances up, ready to tell Renee to just hang up the goddamn phone and head back to dreamland, when her expression stops him.

Renee bends forward, her face scrunched up in concentration, her eyes alight with worry. She glances at Dean, shaking her head before speaking into the receiver urgently.

“Is everyone alright? Are you and- okay, that's good. Oh god, what about Roman and-" she visibly relaxes, something softening in her face as she listens.

Dean comes to attention at the sound of his brother's name. He jerks upright, planting his forearms on the bed and staring intently at Renee. She nods at him, giving an attempt at a reassuring smile. He grasps out blindly, squeezing her fingers between his as she carries on speaking to what he assumes is Cathy, as the voice coming through the phone, while faint to his ears, sounds remarkably less obnoxious than Seth’s.

Who may or may not be hurt in some capacity.

Dean feels sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

“What happened?" he asks, unable to keep the thought from burbling out of his brain and tumbling haphazardly out of his mouth.

Renee squeezes his fingers back, pulling him closer in a move that makes his heart leap into his throat. “There was a fire at Cathy's place. Everyone is fine."

Well.

Damn.

“What? Is-”

“They are all _fine_ , Dean. Yeah, Cathy, I’m still here. Deans just freaking out. Do you guys have a place to stay?

And with that, Dean’s heart goes from racing, to a complete stop. Oh fuck, yeah, they would need a place to stay, if their house was all borked. Which means-

“Oh, you have got to be fuckin kidding me.”

“Dean, hush. Yeah, Cathy. I’ve got you. We’ll get some coffee started and you just worry about getting yourselves here. Stay safe on the way over, alright?”

She smiles at whatever snarky thing Cathy replied with, before snapping her phone shut and turning a somewhat apologetic, but mostly stern look on Dean.

Dean doesn’t waver, only a slight pang of guilt eating at him. Which is ridiculous, since Renee did not _ask_ for his opinion about house guests before telling them that they could come on over.

 **But** he is the one starting a fight at three in the morning right after their friend’s house caught on fire.

Her friend. Cathy is less Dean’s friend, and more Renee’s friend.

Seth isn’t anyone’s friend. Dean wouldn’t even be able to guess at how someone would be able to put up with his obnoxious ass for that long.

Admittedly, Seth does make a mean roast. Also, he looks good fixing a car.

But other than that, no redeeming qualities at all. Smug bastard.

“Alright, I know you don’t like Seth-” Renee starts, but Dean barrels over her, the petulance in his own voice making him even more irritated.

“I don’t dislike him. I just don’t give a shit what he does. Like, at all. For all I care he can go take a short walk off a lopsided oil tanker in the middle of the atlantic ocean. Preferably without a life preserver.”

“Dean. Don’t you think that that is a little far? He is just slightly annoying, no more annoying than you, if I’m being honest,” Renee says, leaning towards him and planting her arms across his forearms, tangling their fingers together. He accepts the touch because one, he likes physical contact, and two, he is finding himself to be less angry about this situation than he had first thought he would be.

He doesn’t know how to feel about that particular revelation.

Fuck, does that mean that he is just going to go along with this shit?

“That is so unfair. You're supposed to be on my side,” Dean whines, tugging at her fingers plaintively. “Besides, how dare you compare me to that asshole. I am so much more devilishly handsome than he is.”

Well.

“Okay, his facial structure is really nice. And all that damn muscle definition. But the point is-”

Renee laughs, cutting him off. “Well, looks like someone has some confessions to dump into the booth this sunday. Muscle definition, huh?”

Dean chokes on a slightly strangled noise that seems to get stuck in the back of his throat. “Please, if I ever gimped my sinner ass into a church, god would descend from the heavens themselves to personally smite the shit out of the poor place for even letting a piece of shit like me through the doors. Also, shut up, I am only human, give me a break.”

“They are nice abs,” Renee concedes with a triumphant smirk, and Dean knows that he has lost.

Him and his big mouth.

He casts an eye down to his crotch, annoyed with his own inability to lie when he thinks someone is attractive.

Even if said someone happens to be the most annoying person on planet earth. Although, Renee seems to think that he and Seth have something in common and she is rarely wrong about interpersonal relationships.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

“It doesn't make him any less of a pain in the ass,” he mutters, all the defiance fading into resignation as he pulls away from Renee and gets himself into a standing position.

“I think you two could find something in common, if you just give yourselves some breathing room, and stop making pre-judgements about each other.”

Dean makes a face, stepping towards the bedroom door. “I’ll try, I guess.”

Renee’s face goes serious as she too gets up off the bed, running a hand through her sleep-tangled hair. “Dean, I am sorry for just steamrolling over you like that. I should have at least asked your opinion before I agreed to let them stay.”

Dean pauses, turning to search her face. He used to have problems even making eye contact in moments like this, but he is getting better at the whole ‘communication’ Thing.

He is work in progress, as his therapist likes to say.

“Thanks. I know. I’m sorry for starting shit with you at three in the morning on your day off, about letting your newly homeless friend stay over until they get the whole thing sorted. I know can be unreasonable about stuff sometimes. I don’t even really have that much of a problem with it, I just-”

Dean flounders, finding that he really doesn’t actually know why he doesn’t want them to stay. It’s definitely not Cathy, and even the thought of Seth staying doesn’t piss him off that much. It just makes his stomach knot up uncomfortably and the backs of his eyes sting a little, like he needs to go dim the lights in the room or something.

Weird. Maybe he should go get his eyes checked?

“I don’t know why I don’t want them here,” he says honestly, utter confusion in his voice.

Renee cocks her head at him, looking just as confused as him, though there is a distinct pleased lilt to her voice when she speaks.

“Well, maybe you should think on that some. You can always hash out your thoughts with me, if you want. Or maybe ask for Callihan’s opinion on the subject.”

Dean nods distractedly, only half listening, trying to puzzle through these weird feelings of his. After probably not enough contemplation, as his therapist would say, he shrugs, deciding that it will either work itself out eventually, or he will figure it out on his own.

Though, she might have a point about talking to Sami about this. His therapist is a perceptive son of a bitch.

“Maybe. It’s probably not that big of a deal. I’m gonna go make that coffee while you shower?”

She smiles, accepting the subject change easily.

“Sounds good. Don’t make it too strong. Seth hates really strong coffee.”

Dean scoffs as he strides down the short hallway towards the kitchen.

“Of course he does.”

* * *

The coffee doesn’t take long in the new fancy machine that Renee bought, so Dean plops down on the stairs outside to wait for their impending guests. He jumps every time a car passes, but doesn’t bother looking up at the sounds of the engines.

He knows what Cathy’s and Seth’s car sounds like.

The one sound that does eventually make him look up is not the purr of that sleek red beast- Seth had tried to explain the model, but Dean had gotten bored around the time he started drolling on about horses or something- but the roar of a heavy duty four-by-four truck. Dean stands up, leaning over the rail to watch Roman’s Ford slide into the parking spot next to theirs.

Dean smiles as Joelle jumps out of the car as soon as Galina gives her the nod. He hears Renee open the apartment door behind him, but all he can do is drag Roman closer as he snuggles into Joelle’s soft murmurs of her fearful night, ignoring the fact that she is slightly sticky from the hot summer night, and the fact that she seems to have spilled apple juice on herself at some point on the way over here. He mutters back to her, not even really thinking about what he is saying, just desperate and scared and relieved.

It hadn’t really sunk in, until now, that they all could have died, and he would have been awake and pondering his fortune in life. God, he almost lost them all.

He ignores the indignant squawk, hauling Seth over as Renee wraps one arm around Dean’s back and the other around Cathy’s shoulders, and Galina and Roman surround them in arms and body heat. It feels good, to remind himself that they are all fine, they all lived, and they are safe.

Fuck, why was he so resistant to them staying? He wouldn’t want them anywhere else, right now. Dean feels like if he takes his eyes off of them, they will all go up in smoke.

Which.

Fuck.

“Christ. Sorry. There is coffee upstairs, and Joelle should probably get some sleep if she can? I heard sleep is important for kids, or something,” he grouses, as they all slowly pull apart, all of them looking very reluctant to move too far away from each other. Even Seth hovers close, giving Dean odd looks every once and awhile.

Dean finds it less annoying right now, for some reason. He would give up anything in the world to have Seth here, (and alive) creeping him out, than burnt to a crisp or buried under a pile of his own soldering belongings like in the horrible pictures cascading through Dean's over active imagination right now.

Joelle makes vague noises of complaint, but Dean can see her little eyes drooping. Galina scoops her up, smiling at Dean. “The guest room is down the hall from your-”

“You and Roman can have the master. It’s got room for her. We’ll make due,” Renee says, waving the concerned frown Galina gives her off.

“Hey, only the very best for the kid,” Dean says, ruffling Joelle’s hair just to hear her soft (alive) giggles.

(the ach in his chest flairs up again)

He realizes, belatedly, that this early morning has been a Little Much.

Jesus he needs some-

Nope. Not going back _there._

He suddenly **really** wishes that they had not messed with that damn fire alarm.

Galina relents, nodding thankfully and herding her husband and kid into the apartment. Roman grabs Dean’s head, planting a kiss on the side of his face as he moves past, making Dean smile. Seth bumps into Dean’s side as Roman passes, and Dean looks at him curiously, noticing that Seth has apparently had a hold of the back of Roman’s shirt for who knows how long. Seth doesn’t seem to have done it consciously, as he looks down, a startled look crossing his face. Seth let's go, getting a sloppy forehead kiss as well from Roman before Galina drags him into the house.

Seth turns, shrugging at Dean, the look on his face hard to read.

Dean says nothing. It’s not like he has it any more together than Seth does at the moment.

Hmm. Maybe that is what they have in common. They both handle hings badly.

“There is coffee, you said? Oh excellent. I have to be over at the station in two hours,” Cathy says, patting Dean on the shoulder as she passes, immediately falling into one of her secret girl conversations with Renee as the two of them head inside.

Dean watches the two ladies go into the house, taking them in like he is afraid he will never see them again. Which he will, it just doesn't feel like it at the present moment. He glances back at Seth, who is still staring at him oddly, something like regret on his face.

“You know, if it bothers you that much-”

And Dean isn’t sure if it does, in that moment. He is still unsure, at the present moment, why he cares so much. Why does it matter if Seth is going to be here for however long it takes them to get the house sorted out? Why does he care as much as he does? Does it really matter as much as he is making it out to?

Maybe it’s just the principal of the thing. Perhaps he should have one of those talks Renee is always on him about. Sami will know, surely. Or at least, as is the case usually, Dean’s therapist will have some useful advice for the situation.

More than likely, Callihan will mumble cryptic things until something he says triggers a revelation in Dean. That is how it usually works, at least.

Sighing, Dean decides that this one is best let go. They can have the talk after this mess is dealt with. Even if that means that he has to put up with fucking Seth Rollins of all goddamn people.

“Well, don’t just stand there in the unpleasantly hot night air. C’mon in, and enjoy the tiny apartment that we are all going to be crammed into for the foreseeable future.”

Seth grimaces at that.

“Fuck, I forgot. Your apartment is the size of a shoe box.”

Dean can’t help but grin at that, not particularly looking forward to being squished into their microscopic abode with Seth and Cathy, but also oddly comforted by the fact. It has been a long time since he was forced to be in close quarters with so many people.

Fond memories of the hostel he broke into when he was fifteen flood him at the thought.

“Yep. Brace yourself for the good old fashioned sardine treatment, Sethy-poo, things are about to get up close and personal!”


	3. From the ashes

“What the fuck kinda coffee is this? It’s like watered down koolaid,” Seth groans into the cup he is holding, scrunching his face up against the affront to all coffee-kind.

“Language,” Roman chastises, popping a slice of bread out of the toaster and buttering it with a flourish.

“I’ll throw a dollar in the swear jar. Seriously though, who made this coffee? Was it you?” Seth says accusingly, pointing an index finger at Dean as he speaks, “I bet you are a coffee peasant.”

“You’re still drinking it, aren’t you?” Dean grouses, casting an odd look to Renee, who smiles angelically at him.

Seth chooses to ignore the interaction. Far be it from him to get in the middle of any sort of domestic dispute between those two.

“Hon, it’s not that bad. Just shut up and drink your caffeine,” Cathy breaks in, settling into the single armchair in the living room, sipping on her own cup of ‘coffee’.

Seth makes an affronted noise, none the less taking another sip, the small traces of caffeine better than no caffeine at all. “I’m just saying. This is not coffee. It’s child-grade crapu-chino.”

Dean swivels around, shooting Renee another weird look and striding over to the coffee maker. Seth scoots out of the way as Dean passes, raising an eyebrow at the stormy look in those gray eyes. Dean pays him no mind, opening the basket and throwing more grounds in haphazardly, before popping the back open and pouring the watered down travesty into the compartment. Slamming the lid home and thrusting the pot back in place, Dean turns, shooting Seth a challenging look as he sets it to perk again.

“There, are you fucking happy now?” Dean briefly holds up a hand in Romans direction, forestalling the reprimand. “Swear jar. Tell shortie that I owe her an ice cream.”

Seth looks at Dean, then down at the coffee maker, now in the process of churning out what will no doubt tastes like half digested sludge, wondering what exactly he is supposed to be so impressed by here.

“Not really. I need to go deal with the insurance people today, and I don’t have the car with me,” Seth says, taking another sip of disappointment before biting the bullet and throwing the whole thing back, grimacing at the lack of flavor.

Dean sags a bit, looking slightly lost for a moment. Seth feels vindicated, happy that Dean was expecting a fight, and ended up with a dilemma that involves adult responsibilities and maturity.

Not that Dean would know anything about any of that.

“Okay, well, I’m just the barista so-”

“I’m taking Galina to work, then Joelle to school,” Roman says apologetically, prompting an understanding nod from Seth.

“Which are on the other side of town. I get you man, no problem. Have a good day at work,” Seth says understandingly, patting Roman on the shoulder and waving as Galina herds Joelle out of the apartment. Roman heads after them, toast hanging out of his mouth and Joelle's lunch balanced in his arms.

“I planned on hitching a ride with you, if that is alright…” Cathy says, blinking coyly at Renee, who strikes a ridiculous pose, flashing a thumbs up and hip bumping Cathy as she gets up to put her coffee mug away.

“I got you, babe. But, that still leaves Seth out to dry, as the radio station is like, what? Twice as far from your house as Joelle’s school? I mean, it’s feasible, but not if we want to work, or do anything other than drive back and forth all day long…”

Seth sighs, pulling out his phone, ready to re-schedule with the insurance agent, “Nothing left to do about it then. There is no sense in making things harder than they need to be. I’ll just see what their next free day is, and hopefully-”

“Dude, stop it. I’ve got the day off. I’ll take you.”

Seth stops fiddling with his phone, raising an incredulous eyebrow before he can stop himself. “What?”

Dean scuffs the tile floor with his dirty sneakers, looking perhaps more uncomfortable with this single act of (generosity? kindness? maturity?) whatever this is, than Seth has ever seen him before.

“I’ll drive you wherever. Not like I have anything better to do today.”

Seth blinks, tempted to go back to rescheduling the appointment, not sure if he should trust this new, responsible Dean. This new Dean who offers to help instead of making things way more difficult than they need to be.

Admittedly, Seth is aware that Dean often does try to help, it is just that Dean is spectacularly bad at anything that does not involve hustling pool or smuggling cigarettes onto school property.

A snarky voice in the back of Seth’s brain informs him that he is being a child about this, and that he should just shut up and take the goddamn ride instead of reminiscing about their high school days like a weirdo.

“Are you sure you want to be stuck in a car with me all day, Dean? I have no idea how long this whole debacle is going to take,” Seth warns, though he is already stuffing his phone in his pocket and grabbing his keys from the table.

Dean scuttles behind him, nodding as he goes, still not making eye contact, though Seth does catch Renee and Cathy’s conspiratorial whispering as Dean follows him out of the kitchen.

“Yeah. It’s fine. Take as long as you need. I’ve got nothing but time.”

The car ride is not nearly as horrific as Seth would have at first assumed, though admittedly, they do get into a total of seven arguments over what radio station to play over the course of the fifteen minute drive. They eventually settle on only somewhat stilted silence, Seth using the time to text Cathy and make a few calls to their neighbors.

From the sounds of it, the house situation is not the best that it could be.

“How bad?” Dean asks, as Seth gets off the phone with the old lady that lives on the far side of Roman’s house. Mrs. June always made the best damn christmas cookies Seth had ever had, and she had great stories about her crazy world adventures.

“She said that the whole back of the house is borked, basically. I don’t know how much it’s going to cost, but I doubt it’ll be cheap. Or fixed very soon,” Seth says with a sigh, gazing out at the streets they are passing, as they come up on their destination.

Dean pulls the car up in front of the house, parking right behind the insurance agents car. “Well. No sense in stalling then. Like a bandaid, just gotta rip it off and get it over with.”

“You know, you can put rubbing alcohol on the-”

“Go talk to your damn agent and stop being such a know-it-all for once!”

Seth gets out of the car with a somewhat unexpected chortal, flashing Dean a smirk as he goes.

That wasn’t so bad. Could have been worse.

* * *

 

“This could not be any fucking worse!” Seth wails in anguish, flopping down on the hood of Dean’s car with a groan.

“You are such a damn drama queen,” Dean says, though he does flash a chastised look in response to Seth’s glare. Seth takes the apology slim jim that he is offered, making a face at the oily taste but eating it anyway, gesturing with it in frustration.

“An estimated six fucking weeks! I mean, it’s not going to be nearly as expensive as me and Cathy were thinking, but the labor costs for that amount of time are going to be a pain in the ass. Not to mention, I have to go and file a suit against that asshole handyman, who’s fault this whole thing is in the first place-”

“Do you think he meant to burn your house down? Cause that is all sorts of fucked,” Dean says contemplatively, though his voice sours with disgust at the end.

Seth stops himself from marveling at all these newfound facets of Dean that he is discovering.

He had honestly thought that Dean had lost the ability to feel compassion many years ago.

Which is unfair, Seth realizes.

Well shit.

“No, Dean. I just think that he was lazy. He fucked up the rewiring in the kitchen, and the piping to the stove. Which resulted in a gas leak and a fire. He was negligent,” Seth forces himself not to speak to Dean in an antagonistic way, measuring his voice with patience and what he hopes to be something resembling friendliness.

No sense in making this any worse than it already is. Besides, it’s just like talking to his students, explaining something that they don’t get in the coursework.

“You can sue people for that?” Dean asks, like the american justice system is something that he has never heard of or something.

Seth looks at Dean, raising an eyebrow at the scruffy idiot, who looks the most like a child in these moments, when he is confused and puzzled and looking for an explanation.

Sometimes, these moments make Seth ach for a time long passed.

“Dean, you can sue people who do you harm, yes. Even if the guy did not mean to burn our kitchen to hell, he caused the damage. He can’t be allowed to sloppily wreck other people's property that way. It might not work out in our favor, but I will be filing the appropriate paperwork to get the problem seen to.”

And even Seth, who is admittedly not fond of Dean, knows that they are treading dangerous ground here. Seth knows that there were many, many times in Dean’s life when people hurt him, and he was unable to do anything about it for one reason or another. Seth knows that this is a touchy subject, and while he hates to go from one touchy subject to another…

“Speaking of lawyers. I need to go downtown and see ours. Can you drop me off back at the apartment-”

Dean shakes his head, leaning away from his resting position against the car, taking Seth’s slim jim wrapper and the hot dog cartons from the hood of the car and tossing them into the convenience store trash can. “Nah, it’s cool. I’ll just drive you over there.”

Seth makes a noise of protest, “Hey, listen, I know how much of a jerk I can be, but even I remember that figures of authority make you nervous.”

“I’m not made of glass. I’ll be fine. Besides, I told you I didn't have anything better to do today.”

Seth shrugs, sliding back down into the passenger's seat and getting his phone out, sending a quick text to Sasha that they are on their way right now, instead of the vague ‘in the next week’ Seth had given her earlier. “Hope you brought a book to keep you occupied then. Cause I’m assuming you're not coming up to hear all the nattering?”

Dean pauses only for a minute, something wary and uneasy crossing his face that forces Seth to fight down a laugh. “No thanks. I’ll drive you there, but I’ll pass on the participation part. Probably wouldn’t even understand half the bullshit either of you would be spewing anyway. Besides,” Dean indicates the pile of heavy textbooks in the backseat of the car, “I’ve got studying to do.”

Seth had noticed the books. He’d also noted that those were what Dean had been pouring over while Seth himself had been looking over the house with the insurance agent.

“Getting a degree, are you? Bout time,” Seth says, with just a little too much familiarity for his own liking, though it does not irritate him as much as it probably should.

It’s easier to be nice to Dean today, for some reason.

“Just an econ course. Renee says I’m really bad with money. I think it’s helping a bit.”

Seth refocuses his attention on his phone, so that he does not have to respond to that comment. He doesn’t know what he would say, other than something about how he is glad that Dean is finally getting in line with this whole ‘adult’ thing.

Which even Seth himself is willing to admit would be a dickhole thing to blurt out at a time like this.

“Well. Seems like we both have long, boring afternoons ahead of us then.”

Dean chuckles dryly as he pulls out of the convenience store parking lot, heading down the road towards down town, offering a fist bump in solidarity to their shared, shitty tasks that they are going to have to endure. Seth obliges, bumping his knuckles against Dean’s, the silence in the car much less strained this time around as they drive down the street towards their next destination.


	4. The embers smolder ever closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one was expecting a pwp. I am physically incapable of writing porn without copious amounts of lead-in and build up. Apologies.

“Okay. So he was a con man, basically,” Seth says, stroking his stubble thoughtfully as his eyes scan the stack of police reports in his hands.

Sasha nods, looking like she wants to reach for the bottle of gin that he knows for a fact is stashed in the bottom drawer of her desk. He raises an eyebrow, and contemplates calling her out, but she seems to know what he is about to say and waves him off.

“In fact, it seems like a whole network of unlicensed hacks running around ‘fixing’ people's shit, only to end up causing thousands of dollars in damages.”

Seth sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t supposed this one is going to be over anytime soon, is it?”

“Not on your life,” Sasha says, looking again like she wants to reach for the bottle. Seth honestly can’t blame her.

“For what it is worth, I am sorry. I will absolutely listen to you next time, and not contract some random asshole from Craigslist, I swear.”

“Goddamn Rollins. You are the bane of my existence, you know that?”

Seth rubs a hand against the back of his neck, trying for a chastised look. “Well. At least I’m beautiful?”

Sasha swats him with the manila folder in her hands before tossing it down on her desk and making shooing motions towards the door.

“Get the hell out of my office, butterbean, and make sure you don’t burn down anymore houses or contract cheap, license-less labor until we get this particular case sorted out, alright?”

Seth chuckles, strolling over to the door as he gives her an irreverent salute, “Is that an order captain, or do I have some wiggle room for mischief in there somewhere?”

“No wiggle room! Just stay out of trouble for once in your life.”

He quiets his answering laugh as she picks up the phone, waving when she gives him a stern look before barking orders into the receiver. He clamps a hand around the door knob, only turning around when Sasha hangs up, the receiver remaining poised in her hand.

“See you on Monday, butterbean,” She says, the seriousness in her voice tinged with affection. Seth nods, his own impulse to say something stupid and mood breaking overwhelmed by her softening countenance.

“I will be here, I promise. Have a good weekend, stay away from that bottle in your drawer, go to your meetings and I’ll text you when I get the business card from Cathy.”

Casting one last triumphant smile at his viciously effective lawyer, Seth heads out of the office. He fist bumps Finn on his way out and scoots past Joe, who merely glowers at him on his way over to Finn’s desk, coffees in hand. Seth doesn’t stop to make small talk, just chirps a goodbye and leaves them to their caffeine.

Jogging down the stairs, he feels his pocket vibrate and digs his phone out of his pocket as he opens the passenger door of Dean’s car.

“Hey, I just got a text from- Uh.”

Seth blinks, plopping down in the passenger seat and freezing at the strange sight that meets his unprepared eyes. Dean is sitting there, in the driver's seat, textbook open in his lap, face turned down as he scans the tiny writing intently. The strange part, and the part that gives Seth pause, are the thick horn rimmed glasses sitting neatly across Dean’s nose.

Why are they purple?

Wait.

It does not **at all** matter what _color_ they are.

That is not the point. Although honestly, Seth is not sure what the point actually is at the moment. He just knows that Dean+glasses has momentarily short circuited his brain for some weird reason that he is not going to examine too closely.

Dean finally shifts, Seth watching his eyes trace the last line on the page. Seemingly satisfied with a stopping point, Dean pulls a ribbon that Seth had not initially noticed from behind his ear, slipping it between the thick folds of paper before at last looking up, shifting his shoulders as he takes in Seth’s befuddled silence.

“You done up there already? Hot damn, I thought we’d be here all morning. We are fucking making great time, it’s only ten am.”

Seth coughs, pulling himself fully into the car and closing the passenger door as he settles into his seat. Looking down at his cell, Seth tries to remember what he was carrying on about when he walked up to the car, finding that he cannot keep a train of thought at the moment.

“Not really anything else to be done for the day,” Seth says, hopefully managing a conversational tone as he stuffs his phone in his pocket, mostly just to give himself something to do with his hands.

Dean flips the textbook closed, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose as he squirms around in the driver's seat to toss the book into the floorboards in the back with his other reading material. Seth blinks, momentarily confused as he registers what he is seeing, leaning closer when he realizes what is going on with Dean’s unexpected eyewear.

“Okay, cool. You wanna head back to the apartment then, or-”

“Are you fucking wearing lens-less glasses?” Seth blurts in shock, his voice pitching up with incredulity at the absurdity of the situation.

Dean looks at him, then reaches up, pulling the purple reading glasses from his face. He just sits there, holding them in his hands, looking at the glasses that he chose to put on his own face, like he had totally forgotten that they were there.

“Ah. See, about that,” Dean says, inhaling loudly and looking at Seth out of the corner of his eye, reaching over and pulling the glove box open. Seth watches Dean toss the glasses into the glovebox, his confusion only increasing at Dean’s shy behavior. “I just thought that they made me look smarter.”

Seth fights down the guffaw at that as Dean self consciously starts the car. Snapping his seat belt in place, Seth also stamps down the urge to make a snide comment about Dean’s ability to appear intelligent, regardless of the glasses.

“Well. I don’t know how smart they make you look, but you could absolutely pull off the sexy librarian thing if you wanted,” Seth quips instead, meaning the stray thought more than he had intended. It sounds less like a playful joke when it actually comes out of his mouth.

Dean casts a suspicious look at Seth as they pull out of the parking lot. “Hey. We can’t all be supermodel beach babes like you, alright-” Dean blinks, his face morphing belatedly from suspicious to baffled as he absorbs what Seth actually said. “Oh. Okay. Really? You don’t think I’m a little too scruffy for the sophisticated librarian look?”

Seth contemplates it for a moment, appraising Dean as the other man concentrates determinedly on the road in front of them.

“I didn’t say sophisticated. I was thinking nerdy bedhead, and piles of old dusty books. All you’d need to complement those glasses would be one of those hideous tweed jackets with half the buttons missing and a tattered Queen shirt from the thrift store, and you would be good to go.”

Seth pats himself on the back for the compliment, proud of himself that this conversation did not turn into them hurling textbooks at each other on the side of the highway. Dean, for his part, looks quite pleased as well, sitting up in his seat, which Seth supposes means the complement is being taken the way he meant it, given that Dean’s earlier apprehension is gone.

“Renee called me a hipster when she saw me wearing them.”

Seth is mildly surprised to find that he wants to defend Dean’s fashion choices, and isn’t that just the absolute weirdest thing that has happened in his life for the last few days.

Including the whole exposing an underground crop of illicit handymen and having his kitchen burn down.

Seth again restrains himself though, as Dean’s voice has a distinct thread of humor weaved through it, so he clearly is not upset with Renee for the teasing. Seth just shrugs, deciding to take a stand on the issue, regardless of how Dean’s girlfriend feels about the subject.

“For whatever it is worth, I think she is way off. But I may just have some weird glasses fetish that I never knew about, involving librarians. I think you would need a scarf and a haircut to pull off the hipster look.”

“You’d know all about the hipster look. I remember how you used to dress in high school.”

Which is not untrue, though Seth does occasionally feel the sudden urge to cringe himself to death when he recalls his school days. Not necessarily because of his style of dress, however.

“Hey, listen. We all did things that we regret in high school.” Realizing that that is probably a sore subject, and not wanting this semi-pleasant conversation to go downhill, Seth changes tracks before Dean can lock up and get all defensive. “Anyway. Renee wears polka-dot socks with her work slacks, so what does she know about the difference between a hipster and a hot librarian?”

That gets a laugh from Dean.

“Hell if I know. God, I’m gonna have to wear those glasses around you more often. They make you into less of a dick.”

Seth doesn’t verbally reply though he does toss a middle finger Dean’s way. Dean just snickers again, and they continue on in companionable silence, heading home to the tune of the textbooks sliding back and forth across the floorboards in the backseat.

* * *

“Fuck. I have to go down to the community center and take over for Bayley. Did you need anything else?” Dean asks, stuffing his phone in his pocket and shifting gears as he turns towards Seth, who blinks at him for a heartbeat.

“The shop texted me earlier. The car is ready to be picked up. Can you drop me off on the way over to the- community center? Why do you need to do anything at a community center?”

Dean bristles almost immediately, but tries to tamper down the urge to snap and snarl, feeling irately defensive for reasons that he chooses to interpret later.

Or never.

“Me, Bayley and Jimmy volunteer for the self defense classes over there. Jimmy is on vacation, and Bayley said her girlfriend needs her right now. I need to fill in for her.”

Seth is staring at him with wide, surprised eyes and Dean fights with the urge to snap at him angrily.

“You take self defense classes?” Seth asks him, looking genuinely curious, which is the only reason Dean doesn’t sock him in the jaw right then and there.

“Not anymore. We teach self defense classes.” Dean can feel the urge to babble rising, as the air around them becomes strange and tense. He very acutely wishes he had never said anything at all, but that would have left Bayley out to dry, which Dean feels incapable of doing.

He has done a lot of awful things in his life, but he has never let a friend down. He does not plan on starting now.

“Oh,” is all Seth says, and they settle into an uneasy silence, the space between them littered with all sorts of unsaid things that Dean would rather go back to crawling around under railroad cars than adress.

The tense atmosphere lingers until they pull up to Daylight, which Dean always thought sounded like the name of a nightclub from those poorly written vampire romance novels Jimmy likes so much.

Sami bounces up to them, filthy rag in his hands as he reaches for a handshake, Dean raises an eyebrow and Sami seems to realize belatedly. He drops his hand, stuffing the oil-stained rag in his pocket with a look of embarrassment on his face.

“Oops. Sorry.” Sami blushes and tries again, offering Dean his now rag-less hand. Dean just snorts, pulling the idiot in for a long overdue hug, letting the resplendence of all that is the human personification of light wash over him.

Memories from his younger days flood him unbidden, but they are soft and sweet this time, so unlike a lot of his childhood or lack thereof. The better parts of his youth, long summer days spent hanging out with Sami (and sometimes Kevin) and how easy everything was with them.

Dean realizes that he missed this. He missed _them_.

Even Seth. Which is presumably why he is less angry about Seth staying with them than he thought he would be.

Jesus, he really **does** need to go see Callihan.

Sami finally pulls back, his bright smile fading at the edges a bit, sadness and regret and apology skittering across his face. “Long time no see, Dean. Listen, it’s been eating at me for a while, but I guess none of that matters now. You got better on your own, no thanks to any of us-”

Dean leans forward, letting their foreheads bump together roughly. “Hey, no. Those phone calls kept me sane when I was locked up. I mean, it wasn’t just your phone calls, but you called, and that is all that matters.” Dean smiles a genuine smile, feeling happiness for his friend overwhelm the sadness and the pain of the moment. “Besides. You and Gumpy-kins The Wundercunt had just hooked back up. I would never ever have asked you to walk away from that for even a second, to travel halfway across the country to visit my broken ass. It all worked out in the end.”

Sami still looks uncertain, but willing to accept Dean's judgement on the subject. “As long as you are okay, that’s all that matters. I guess it all did turn out okay, despite the extra amounts of messed up-ness involved.”

“I suppose you could say that we wouldn’t appreciate the things we now have, if it hadn’t been such a struggle to get them, right?” Seth chimes in, accepting his own enthusiastic hug from Sami, giving Dean a questioning look that is tinged with something oddly tender.

“That is one way to put it,” Dean agrees, grinning again. “Speaking of struggles to get things, how is Kevin?”

Sami flushes again, looking down and away, his eyes going softer and that inner light that he constantly shines with seeming to somehow magnify itself, until Dean is tempted to turn around and grab his sunglasses out of the drivers side visor.

“He is good. Great, even, at least I hope so. I was up with the twins all night, so he took the day off so I could rest when I get home.”

“The domestic bliss suits you,” Seth says, his own voice airy and almost bubbly as he ruffles Sami’s hair. Dean is tempted to shade his eyes again as the scene unfolds before him.

“Yeah, well. It was a slog to get here, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.” They all take a minute to appreciate that sentiment, just standing there and smiling at each other like idiots before Sami finally pulls his rag back out of his pocket and gestures to the two of them to follow him.

“Alright, Seth, your car is in the back.”

They get to the car and Seth examines the new paint job closely, looking for any lingering smoke damage. Dean contemplates asking how and why the car managed to get messed up just from the smoke (or the heat? Seth said the heat was pretty intense) but thinks better of it, remembering the night that started all this and Seth’s boring rambling about cars and horses and lubricants or whatever.

“Sweet. Car’s good?” Dean asks instead, as Seth stands up, dusting his hands off and looking satisfied.

“Yeah. We can go.”

They say their goodbyes to Sami, who tentatively offers to come over, or for them to come visit. Dean immediately jumps on the later, insisting that Sami and Kevin do not need to be traveling anywhere with two newborns. Seth agrees and they make vague plans for the coming weeks.

The excitement dies down as they near Dean’s car, Dean realizing that Seth is walking him to his car, and Seth will have to walk all the way around the shop again to get back to his own car.

The realization does not make him open his mouth and tell Seth off though.

God, he _really_ needs to talk to Callihan.

“So, uh. I’ll see you later tonight back at the apartment?” Seth offers, and while the air is no longer tense, it is now immensely awkward.

Dean honestly kind of wants the outright hostility back. It was better than this.

“Sure. I’ll be at the community center for- well, as long as the kids need me. Still, it doesn't usually take more than two hours. Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, Sethy-poo.”

Seth doesn’t bristle at the nickname, just raises his hand in a wave that Dean finds himself returning as he rolls out of the parking lot, watching Seth in his rear-view mirror until he disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I am actually capable of writing things that have nothing to do with Steenerico/Zowens. I know that this makes it look like the opposite, but come on. I couldn't resist. I was actually having a rough time not getting even more ship drama in here. There is at least one couple that is cannon to this fic that was in this chapter but not explicitly linked by name, and one that I am sorely tempted to bring up later, although it already exists in my mind at least.
> 
> What can I say, I ship all the things ^.^


	5. When smoke wafts among the winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a long overdue discussion about a time long past, and mistakes too fresh to forget about...

Seth gets the handyman’s business card from Cathy eventually (girls purses are bottomless pits full of tampons, used tissues and probably eldritch horrors) and gets it to Sasha late in the week. He doesn’t have to ride with Dean, as Seth’s baby is in full working order again and he can drive himself around. Which works out well anyway, given that Dean is filling in for Jimmy all week. Seth finds that he actually misses Dean, when Dean is not around. Seth decides that whole can of worms is best left unexamined for now. At least Dean coming home with a returning Jimmy gives Seth something else to think about.

Seth and Jimmy hit it off just as well as they did in high school, except now they don’t immediately start a horrible band called the Age of the Fall.

Galina, Joelle and Roman go home after the first week. Their house was mostly unburnt, but they all felt better being as close together as possible. Seth is sad to see them go, but they all meet up anyway just a week after Roman returns home. They did promise Sami that they would visit after all. Sasha shows up with her girlfriend, someone else that Seth vaguely recalls, and it turns out to be Bayley. They all have a good time laughing at how even though they all exploded out of Florida to several different corners of the world, they all managed to come back together in the same place.

Funny how life works sometimes.

They all promise to do this again and more often, making plans for the holidays as they say their goodbyes. Sasha vows to bring Finn and his husband next time, and she and Kevin theorize on devious schemes to get Joe to come. Seth expresses his doubt about that, but they just drag him into it, and it turns into a competition to see who can come up with the most outrageously barely-legal idea of them all.

Jimmy talks them into going out to a baseball game on the weekend of the third week at Dean and Renee’s apartment. Sami and Kevin can’t go (being the new parents of twins apparently means you are virtually home bound, especially when said newborn twins were premature) so it falls to Dean, Renee, Cathy, Seth and Sasha to make sure the tickets don't go to waste. Bayley won’t leave the kids at the Community Center out to dry on a weekend though, so Sasha begs off to be with her girlfriend.

Seth is sad that he can’t spend more time with Sasha (she’d been the only one besides Cathy that he had kept in touch with after high school) but it gives him a chance to hang out with Finn, who jumps at the chance to eat fatty, overpriced foods, and scream at random strangers. The game goes well, some guy shows up with Dean, but Seth never catches his name, as Cathy is immediately walking off with Renee and then Finn is dragging him over to buy crappy t-shirts with him and Taguchi.

Finn’s husband is a trip, and Seth understands immediately why they are together. Seth very briefly met the guy back in their school days, and recalls that he was a foreign exchange student. Seth doesn’t remember Finn and Taguchi ever interacting, but immediately regrets asking almost the second the question leaves his mouth. Finn starts explaining how he and Ryusuke met (as they scarf down hot dogs and nachos in the bathroom at half time) and everything is going fine at first, Finn looks happy and Taguchi is busy with a mouthful of cheese. But all of a sudden, as Finn is telling Seth about Ryusuke asking Finn to marry him, (back in _high school?_ Seth keeps his thoughts about that to himself)  something in Finn's face darkens and he stops abruptly. Finn looks over at Ryusuke (who is having a one-man, see-how-many-hot dogs-you-can-fit-in-your-mouth competition, over by the sinks) and Finn just looks so goddamn ashamed of himself that Seth lets him change the subject without complaint.

(though it does make him wonder why their entire group of friends is so abysmal at romance)

Finn instead launches into the story of how they got together. It is a much happier tale, about Finn and Taguchi’s proper courtship, which apparently took place seven years ago. Seth smiles at the two of them as they regale him with the yarn, Taguchi getting in on the act and the two of them reenacting one dating fiasco after another to the amusement of Seth, and later Dean and Jimmy, who come looking for them.

That has all quieted down now, the excitement of their days off softening into the monotony of the work week. It is peaceful now, the weekend over and Monday rolling into Tuesday. Seth blinks, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the clock over the TV in the tiny living room, flinching internally at the time.

He is in the middle of debating just how much teasing and proverbial ‘lol, what are you two-hundred years old?’ comments he is willing to endure, just to get a few winks of sleep at five ‘o'clock in the afternoon, when the front door slams open and Dean comes prattling in.

Dean throws himself down on the armchair in the living room, right next to the little work area Seth made for himself, consisting of shoving one of the kitchen chairs up to the coffee table. Seth doesn't look up from his papers, continuing to read through them, grading them as he goes, occasionally grimacing at his students earnestness.

Seth remembers being much more angry and bitter in high school.

“Did you have a long day, or are you being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic?” Seth asks, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he considers Dean's skeptically out of the corner of his eyes. It is probably a testament to their somewhat repaired friendship that Dean doesn’t even blink, at what not even a month ago he would have interpreted as a challenge.

Dean grunts, tossing a forearm over his eyes. “Meh. There was some dumb meeting at the Community Center today. Me and Bailey and Jimmy went. I figured I’d dress up?”

Seth laughs at the way it comes out a question. Which is fair, given that Dean’s tie is improperly tied and appears to be on backwards. Seth is frankly just surprised that Dean didn’t just use a shoelace.

“You didn’t do half bad,” Seth concedes, still chuckling as he reaches over, closing the short distance between them and gives the wrinkled button up that Dean is wearing a tug, watching all the creases briefly smooth themselves out for a heartbeat before he lets the fabric go.

Dean’s bright eyes peek out from under his arm, and Seth catches a brief glimpse of confused frustration on Dean’s face. Seth falters in his grading, looking up and back over at Dean, giving him his full attention for a moment in fear that he had crossed one of the many invisible boundaries Dean erects around himself.

“God, I need to go see Sami,” Dean mutters under his breath in a low voice. Seth relaxes a bit, taking that as an indication that he did not do something that was about to start a fight. Not that Seth was opposed to a verbal throw down with Dean, it’s just that Seth was slightly fond of their newfound civility. Much more than he had ever like the fighting.

“What? Why do you need to go see Sami? Is something wrong with the car?”

Dean looks up and blinks slightly owlishly, his expression so hedged and skittish enough that Seth regrets even asking.

Sore subject, apparently.

“Uh, no. Not that Sami. Callihan is who I meant.”

Seth balks internally, and can’t stop himself from blurting out his suspicious thought at this new information. “Wait, you still talk to Callihan? How is that helpful for your recovery?”

Seth bites down on further comments for a moment, realizing as he speaks how judgy and disappointed he sounds only when the words come out of his mouth. Which makes little sense, given that he really does not care what Dean does or who Dean talks to. Honestly, Seth is unsure why he would even be disappointed about something that does not concern him in the slightest.

Dean shakes his head, looking irritated. “Shut the fuck up Seth. You don’t know anything, alright? You just left and never bothered to see if any of us _peasants_ were still around, or alright, or-”

Ah. So they have to have **this** conversation.

Seth is a big enough man to admit that he kinda hoped that they could just skate past this particular bit of crow-eating awkwardness. If only for the sake of his pride.

“Dean. Easy there, I just-”

“No! Fuck you! You don’t get to stroll around telling me what I can and cannot do, and who I can and cannot have as my therapist. Just because I’ve started digging having you stay here over the last week or so, that doesn’t goddamn mean that you are now somehow in control of my business-”

That gives Seth pause and he sucks in a breath, the words coming out of Dean’s mouth making him draw up short as his thoughts slowly try to process where this conversation is going. Which is probably a fool's errand anyway, given that the two of them seem incapable of having any sort of normal conversation.

“You like having me here?” is literally the only thing Seth can bring himself to ask, the whole previous conversation draining out of his head like unsolidified jello.

Dean snaps a look at Seth, his eyes only lingering for a heartbeat before he is glancing away again.

“No. Maybe. _Shit_ , see, I need to go see Callihan.”

Even through his haze of fixation, Seth feels a little patter in the back of his brain, whispering unsubtly to him that that is an important detail. Forcing himself to focus, Seth parses back through their conversation so far, casting an incredulous look over at Dean when he plays back what the man has been trying to say.

“Fucking **Callihan** became a **_psychologist?_** Like, a real one? With a degree that he didn’t print off of a library computer?”

Seth knows very well, even in the thralls of his disbelief, that he is being mean. That fact doesn't lessen his astonishment any.

Dean is still looking stiff and uncomfortable, but he looks less like a frightened child waiting for a torrent of abuse, or a mistreated dog waiting for that proverbial kick to the ribs. “Yeah. Kid went all the way up to community college and got himself one of those fancy pieces of paper. I think he’s working on some other degree now, and after college he spent a year in some burned out neighborhood, helping druggies. Uh,” Dean pauses, flopping back in the armchair and staring at the ceiling like it will save him from this embarrassing conversation. “That’s where we met up again.”

“Did he help you through the whole… jail thing?” Seth winces, realizing that he doesn't know how to have this conversation anymore than Dean does.

At least they are both hopeless. No one is left out anyway.

Dean actually cracks a smile at that, looking at Seth with a teasing glint to his eye. “‘The jail thing’, really Rollins?” he chortles, “But yeah, he was the councilor for the state pen at the time. I was as surprised as you, to be honest, that he had picked himself up. I was also super goddamn jealous and angry at first, that he had made something of himself while I... hadn’t. But I got over it and he didn’t hold it against me at all, so we’re cool.”

“Huh,” Seth says, because he really doesn't know what else to say. Dean has a point, Seth really did miss a lot. And as much as it galls him to admit it, that was by choice. “Well, you are making something of yourself now, so I’m sure he is proud of you.”

“Yeah, maybe. I kinda hope so. It’s hard to be proud of myself sometimes, so it is nice when I make someone else proud.” Dean sighs and runs a hand through his slicked back hair, musing it back into it’s usual disarray. “I just spent so much time running, you know? From my mom, from that fucking trailer, from you guys even. I didn’t want help at the time, not really.”

“If it matters at this point at all, I do wish that I had made an effort to... I don't know. Do **something**. Really anything other than fleeing as fast as I could in the other direction. You didn’t deserve that, and I realized later that I fucking missed you guys,” Seth says with a hard swallow, eyeing Dean as he talks to gauge whether he should shut the hell up and let this old wound lie or not.

Dean does not look unhappy though, in fact he actually turns his head and smiles at Seth for a moment. “Hey, we all do things we’re not proud of. I appreciate the apology, but for what it is worth, I stopped being mad at you about all that shit a long time ago. I think the only reason I kept starting bitch fights with you after I got with Renee was out of habit. Figured that out during a piss break at that baseball game with Callihan. He wasn’t even quacking me, we were just hanging out, and he made some offhand comment about how well me and you were getting along these last few weeks.”

Dean waves a hand through the air, speaking lightly despite the subject matter, though Seth notes the tense posture. “Callihan’s awesome like that, I think it’s a shrink thing. He tells me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. Told me that no one could help me until I let them. It’s sorta freeing, you know? Taking responsibility for your own choices in life, and then trying to better yourself by your own power? It sucks, and it’s hard, but he was right about it being worth it in the end.”

Seth blinks, not having expected such a gentle, almost nostalgic rant from Dean. He shuffles the papers, at a loss for a moment, as Dean continues to stare up at the ceiling, his expression no longer pained and cornered, but tinged with a serene sort of satisfaction.

Seth feels a swell of something like pride, though exactly why he is not sure. It’s not like Seth himself accomplished anything, and he does not feel like he deserves to take pride in Dean’s struggle for self actualization, as he was…

...not there. For any of it. Which brings them full circle.

“I am happy for you, you know. I know you don’t believe that, because I-” Seth pulls in a breath, vaguely wishing again that this was not a conversation that they needed to have, “-I was not there, and you think that means that I didn’t care-”

Dean tears his eyes away from the ceiling, piercing Seth with a look that tears right through him in a way that he was not expecting. Seth sets the papers down and actually turns, angling his chair away from the coffee table and towards Dean, feeling a pressing need to not appear nonchalant right now, in the face of what is quite clearly a very important conversation, if not necessarily a pleasant one.

“It’s not that. I was snappy and out of line earlier. I know you care. I just- you don’t care in an open enough way for me sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. You are so fucking closed off and wrapped up in your own headspace, you just kind of let the rest of us hover around outside your little bubble and it feels like you never let anyone in.” Dean pauses for breath as Seth belatedly realizes that this is the most that they have said to each other in years. “For the record, I know that I do not get to dictate how you express your emotions. How you show your feelings is none of my business, and the problems that I have with how I interpret those feelings are entirely my own.”

All of a sudden, Seth can no longer help himself, the weird pride that he has no right feeling mixing with a profound sense of affection towards an almost-friend that Seth never thought he would get back (either because Dean would one day completely lose himself to the world of crime and drugs that he insisted on drowning himself in, or because Seth had perpetrated an unforgivable betrayal that September night fifteen years ago, when he hung up the phone on Dean’s drunken pleading) Seth leans over, finally pulling Dean’s sloppily secured tie straight, watching Dean’s eye widen curiously when he does so. “Man, you are just full of all sorts of insight today. Did Callihan teach you all of this, or…?”

Dean’s eyes are still fixed on Seth’s hand, which is still cradling Dean’s errant tie. Seth can’t seem to force his hand to move, for some reason.

“Nah. Like I said, he’s the good kind of shink. The one who tells you the things that you need to hear, and lets you work out the rest. Well, in my case, it’s always been more like he tells me the things I already know, but can’t bring myself to admit. And then he lets me yell and deny it until I can’t reason myself out of the truth anymore.”

Seth makes a vague noise of appreciation. “Hell, sounds like a sweet deal.”

Dean smirks as Seth finally finds the strength to move his misbehaving hand, resting it on the arm of his chair as his finger tips tingle and his palm itches. “It’s a sweet deal if you like being brutally confronted with you own failings. Not so much if you like to be told white lies. Luckily for me, I am fond of the truth, even when it sucks, or is difficult to swallow.”

Seth catches his breath at the look Dean gives him, Dean’s head tilting away from the ceiling once more to stare at Seth with something that Seth would call longing if he didn’t know any better.

And he does know better.

Maybe.

“So, I take it you need someone to tell you the honest-to-god truth about something now? That is why you need to go see Callihan?”

Dean slowly drops his head, avoiding eye contact, though not in the skittish way like usual. This is more fretful, like he is afraid Seth is going to laugh at him or something.

“Uh. Yeah, something like that. Listen, I’m not totally annoyed with you constantly anymore, and I like having you stay here, to the point that I am going to be sad when you get your house back in working order, because that means you’ll be leaving, but that being said, why exactly I need to go see Callihan is… complicated. And I’m not even sure if what I think is happening, is actually happening so- Whatever. Just trust me alright? If it turns out to be about you, and not just about my own fucked up co-dependency, then I swear I’ll let you know. Until then, just trust me please.”

Seth takes another breath, hoping that his thoughts are not cascading across his face. He resolves to just do as Dean asks, because the implications are a bit too much to process and he doesn't want to make this conversation any more awkward than it already is. Besides, Seth finds it surprisingly easy to just let it go, and trust Dean.

Seth wonders if he should be more worried about that.

“Don’t worry. I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that I didn't really fill in the details very well when I started this fic. I think of them all as in their mid-thirties-ish. Seth is a high school English teacher, Renee is a broadcaster, Cathy is a journalist, and Dean volunteers at the Community Center. Jimmy and Bayley volunteer with Dean, Sasha is Seth's lawyer, Bayleys girlfriend and a recovering alcoholic like Dean. Sami Callihan is Dean's therapist, (they got into trouble together in school) Sami Zayn runs a car repair shop, is married to Kevin and they have a set of twins (this is not mpreg, by the way. they adopted.) Joe is an associate of Sasha's, Finn is her secretary and yes, I did indeed make Apollo 55 (anyone reading this actually know wtf that is? probably not. listen, I was a njpw mark long before I even knew what WWE was, okay?) a thing in this fic, (they were my first real otp, okay? before I really got into the shippy side of Steenerico) and they all went to high school together. I think that about sums it up? I feel like I sort of explained all that in the fic alright, but I was worried that it was too confusing. If it wasn't, then never mind I guess ^.^


	6. Like A Phoenix From The Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I upped the rating because of bjs, but I'm not really certain how accurate Mature is for this fic. It seems a little over kill, but I suppose better safe than sorry. Just don't like, expect a hardcore BDSM scene in this or anything. There is mild sexytimes though, so prepare yourself for my utter inability to write porn. Also, I'm horrible at wish fulfillment sex scenes, and I can only somewhat successfully write in-character, awkward-as-fuck porn. So, I'm just saying, don't expect any of the characters to suddenly morph into perfect sex demons who are super suave and all knowing. It's still Dean and Seth, and they are a hot mess.

Dean flops himself down across the lawn chair, throwing his feet up on the arm of Callihan’s chair with a sigh.

“Are you ever going to get one of those fancy shrink couches?”

“You watch way too many soap operas, asshole,” Callihan says, his tone dismissive as he scribbles on his little nerdy notepad.

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em til you’ve tried ‘em. Wasn’t much else to do in the pen anyway.”

“Do you really want to talk about your prison days, Deano?”

Dean looks down and away, twitching his shoulders as he fails to make eye contact. He can feel himself getting defensive, and takes a few deep breaths, trying to internally talk himself into relaxing.

The voice whispering calming words to him in his head sounds an awful lot like a certain dark haired jackass with abs to die for, for some reason.

Which is sort of the whole reason that he is sitting in this shitty plastic lawn chair, in this cramped, dimly lit room, listening to the scritching of Callihan’s mechanical pencil against cheap notebook paper.

“I don’t want to talk about anything in particular. Can I not just come see a friend sometimes?” Dean says as he leans forward, snatching Callihan’s notepad out of his hand. Callihan says nothing, just leans back in his chair casually and watches Dean flop the notepad around idly in the air. Dean tries to wait out the silence, but Callihan is giving him That Look. The look that’s like he knows everything Dean is thinking, before Dean even actually has the thought. He hangs on as long as possible, but it is eventually more than he can take and he breaks with an exasperated breath.

“Fuck Sami, stop fucking looking at me like that. He has been in my goddamn apartment for five weeks. I’m going insane, and I don’t know why.” It all comes out in a rush, like Dean has been holding the words in since he first stepped into Callihan’s living room.

Callihan says nothing still, as Dean sits there, breathing heavily like he just divulged national secrets. Callihan lets the silence drag on for a few moments, Dean somewhat grateful, but also impatient. He perks up when Callihan reaches behind his chair, only to deflate when Callihan throws him a gatorade.

“Callihan, you douchenozzle, I just bared my soul to you. Couldn’t you at least fuckin give me a sympathy handjob or something?”

Callihan snorts derisively, poking Dean in the chest roughly with the bottle until Dean takes it from him. “In your goddamn dreams, Cinderella. Now, shut up and drink. You look like shit. Have you been sleeping?”

Dean does as Sami commands, twisting the top off of the bottle and swigging some of the shit down, grimacing at Callihan’s insistence on blue-raspberry flavored everything. “Not really. I can’t sleep when he’s there. He’s been staying up grading papers and shit.”

“Have you tried asking him to grade his papers more quietly?”

Dean makes a frustrated noise, throwing the notepad back at Callihan, “Not the problem. I get this urge to stay up with him. We’ve been… talking.”

Callihan raises an eyebrow at that, “Oh? About what?”

“...stuff. And things. What we have been up to. Well. I haven’t been up to much in the last few years, besides being locked up and waiting out my probation, so we got through that pretty quickly. He talks a lot, though. About what he’s been doing, where he… went. _Why_ he went.” Dean draws in a breath, finding this whole thing harder than he thought it would be. “He apologized.”

Callihan nods, ignoring his discarded notepad as he spins his pencil around in his hands. “Did you accept?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t really **that** mad at him. Can’t blame him for shit. I did what I did, and he did what he did. We were dumb ass kids. Didn’t know what the fuck we were doing,” Dean says, sniffling a bit and wishing he had taken the allergy pill Renee had offered him before they all headed out this morning. He scrubs at his eyes, feeling dry-eyed and snotty.

“Hell yeah, you were. Still are, actually. Why does that make it hard for you to sleep? Does he really talk for that long?”

Dean feels a bit of embarrassment creep up his neck, turning his head and coughing a bit as he thumps the gatorade bottle against his temple. “Uh. It’s hard to-” Dean flinches and tries again “Difficult. It’s difficult to stop talking. To stop… just Being Together? I kind of just want to sit there in the fucking living room and talk to him all night. Which is weird, because just last month I couldn't stand to be around the bastard.”

“Right. So what’s changed?” Sami asks, picking up his notepad and plopping it down on the coffee table. Dean opens his mouth, a frown curling across his face, but Callihan doesn’t even look at him, just grabs up the notepad and starts flipping through, looking over his notes, or drawings, or whatever the fuck he keeps in that thing.

“You could at least help me figure out the answer to that question, dickhole,” Dean snaps disgruntledly.

Callihan doesn't look up from his doodling. “You already know the answer. You wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”

“Okay then genius, if you're so fucking smart, then why did I come here in the first place?”

Callihan does look up at him then, the serious look in his eyes making Dean cringe backwards in his chair. “You came here because you know why you want Seth at your apartment. You know why you want to stay up all night with him. You know why you were so angry that he left. You know the reasons for all of those little feelings you’ve been having, and you desperately want me to talk you out of it.”

* * *

“Hey, grab some milk while you are at it.”

Seth sighs, pulling the phone away from his mouth when he does so, so as not to be too extremely rude to his tediously domestic brother. “Yes, Roman. Anything else?”

There is a pause on the other end of the line, then another flood of words. “Yeah. Can you stop by the pharmacy and pick up some painkillers? Gals’ been achy lately. And some crackers. She likes the round buttery ones. The morning sickness is really getting her down. And Joelle wants some pickles. Also, do you have time to get some printer paper for the baby shower invitations-”

Seth sighs again, this time with less annoyance, and more fondness. He really can’t help the wave of soft, gentle affection that wafts over him, making his brain fuzzy as Roman babbles on, clearly anxious and excited, and more than a little terrified. Seth quietly writes down everything Roman blurts out, listening to his brother and best friend fret about their upcoming family member.

“Can you get all that? I shouldn’t make you. You have shit to do, and I’m over here trying to-”

Seth cuts off Roman’s slightly hysterical babbling this time, setting his pen down on his desk and glancing at the clock above the door to his classroom, eternally grateful that it is a Saturday.

“Hey, Ro. Chill. I love you, and I love Galina, and I love Joelle. I’ll love this new baby, whoever it grows into. You need to be with your wife and child right now, so you do that, and let me worry about getting you what you need. Alright? There is a lot going on in your house right now, what kind of brother would I be if I couldn’t at least handle the shopping?”

Roman breaths, long and loud, the air whistling through the phone speakers. Seth lets the silence settle, the soft whisper of Roman’s almost silent ‘okay’ echoing over the line.

“Right. Thank you. You are the best.” Seth smiles, and is about to make an obnoxious comment about his own awesomeness, but Roman speaks again before he has the chance to preen. “And hey, try and remember that there is a life of your own that is a bit of a dramatic mess right now, alright?”

Seth huffs, scribbling idly on the paper in front of him for a brief moment before he realizes what he is doing and throws his pen down on his desk, before he gets ink stains all over the shopping list. Seth fidgets, uneasy and uncomfortable with the knowing amusement in Roman’s voice.

“My life is just fine. I have everything I ever… wanted or needed. That’s enough.”

And it is enough.

If he tells himself that enough times, it might actually turn out to be true.

“Seth. I’m your brother. I see you. I’m not trying to push you, I know that it’s- complicated. I get that. It can never be anything but complicated with you two dorks. But do me a favor, yeah?” The gentle nagging in Roman’s voice gives way to genuine concern, and Seth reluctantly makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, his nerves suddenly dithering and his mouth dry.

“Just try not to fuck it up this time, alright?” Roman says softly, no accusation in his voice, just the age-old sadness born of watching someone you love make a horrible error in judgement.

Seth sighs again, reaching up and rubbing a hand across his face, feeling the worry lines embedded in his forehead.

“Man, I think I already have. I thought I learned some goddamn self control after high school. Apparently not. I’m- fuck. He’s not gonna want to-”

Roman makes a dismissive sound, and Seth balks a bit, ready to get outraged at Roman’s disregard for a very serious issue, but Roman steamrolls over him. “You haven’t messed anything up. Yet. Just be careful. You are on shaky ground. You two are significantly less stupid than you used to be. I believe in you. Sort of.”

Seth opens his mouth, confused and slightly terrified, wanting advice, or a punch to the face, or… something, but he hears a small, whiny voice filter over the line, and Roman says something that is muffled, like he pulled the phone away from his mouth to speak to Joelle.

“I gotta go Seth. Love you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Seth snorts, but just says his goodbyes to Roman (with a delighted goodbye to Joelle, who snacthes the phone away from her father briefly when she realizes that he is talking to Seth) and tosses his cell down on the table, unreasonably glad that he does not have to do anything other than paper work today.

Well, paperwork and now shopping, but that he can manage.

Hopefully.

Seth picks up the stack of papers he had been grading when Roman called, ready to finish up here so he can get his family the things they need. But before he can even properly press his pen to the next sloppily written essay, the door to his classroom bursts open, making him jump.

“What the- Oh. Are you okay?” Panic grips Seth briefly as he takes in the ragged breathing and shaky stance of the uncharacteristically put-together man standing in front of him. “Did something happen?”

Dean seems to realise how desperate he looks. He coughs sheepishly, straightening up a bit and dusting himself off, attempting to tug his button up back into place. He gives up after a minute, with a frustrated growl, dropping one hand to his side and running the other through his hair, making it even more disheveled.

Which Seth should **not** be thinking about right now.

Inappropriate.

“I. Uh. Need to talk to you.”

Seth blinks, feeling that it would be unhelpful to point out that the fact that Dean needing to talk to him is very obvious, and that that is far from Seth’s first or even second question about the situation. Seth keeps those thoughts to himself though, placing his pen calmly on his desk and scooting his chair around so he can face Dean properly.

The direct eye contact does not help Dean calm down in the slightest, but it does make him move closer, shuffling across the room towards Seth, shutting the door behind him as he goes.

“What did you need to talk about, then?” Seth asks, trying in vain to catch Dean’s eye. Dean is staring determinedly at the floor though, so Seth has little luck.

“Nothin’ super important. Remember, what two weeks ago now? When I told you I needed to go see Callihan, but I wouldn’t tell you why?” Dean says to the floor of Seth’s classroom, speaking low and monotonously, like he rehearsed this all in his head.

Seth nods, then realizes that Dean cannot actually see his affirmation because of his refusal to look up from the floor. Trying to repress his frustration, Seth opens his mouth and confirms out loud. “Yeah. I remember that.”

Seth resists the urge to ask one of the millions of questions flying through his head, deciding to let this play out by Dean’s playbook, just for the sake of Dean’s comfort if nothing else. Besides, Seth is pretty sure that, if he says anything now and throws Dean out of the rhythm he seems to be deep into, that Dean will never actually get the words that he wants to say out.

Seth isn’t sure if they should have this conversation, but he is sure that if he shuts Dean down here and now, there will never be another chance to have this conversation in the future. Seth breaths deeply, smiling a little when he realizes Dean is doing the same. Dean seems to catch on and finally looks up, the sound of their almost synchronized deep breaths snapping him out of his trance-like state.

Seth leans forward, tilting his head and abortively reaching out, in reaction to the wary look on Dean's face. Dean freezes on the spot, all his fidgeting halting, and his eyes going to Seth’s partially outstretched hand. The heartbeats drag on, the atmosphere tense and stilted, their hesitation feeding into itself and making it hard to breath through the silence.

“Hey. It’s-”

“It’s not fucking okay,” Dean barks, coming closer despite the bite to his words. Seth stands up almost on reflex, a part of his brain signalling warnings as the rest of him strains to wipe that fearful look off of Dean’s usually irreverent face.

Seth never in his life thought that he would want annoying, goofball Dean back, but in this moment he would give anything for Dean to crack a shitty sex joke or something.

“You went to go see Callihan today, then?” Seth asks, dreading the answer for some reason, the anxiety building until he can feel it bubbling away in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah. Turns out the problem was exactly what I did not want it to be. So.”

Another silence descends as Dean goes back to staring at the floor, and Seth blinks in increasing confusion.

“Uh. Well, I hate to be a dumbass, but what exactly is the problem?”

Dean stares at the floor for another long minute, then finally looks up, staring right past Seth and fixing his eyes on the wall just behind the desk. Seth tilts his head again, trying to catch Dean’s gaze, but Dean is having none of it, staring determinedly at the dry wall like it is his only salvation.

“The problem is, that I have have less-than-platonic feelings, for you. Somehow. I thought I got over those in high school. Apparently not.”

Ah.

Well then.

There is a lot to unpack there, but Seth is pretty sure that none of it would be particularly helpful in this exact moment. He wants to question Dean, honestly. Especially that bit about Dean feeling this way back in high school. Which would mean-

Shit.

“That explains a lot, actually,” Seth murmurs, running his hand up Dean's forearm distractedly, the motion almost reflexive at this point. Dean snaps his eyes back to the floor, and Seth tries to gather himself.

There will be plenty of time to feel even worse about hanging up on Dean when he needed him the most (and it makes so much more sense now, why Dean called **Seth** and not anyone else) later. For right now, Dean’s revelation has some very immediate repercussions.

“I don’t see why that is a problem.”

Dean snaps his eyes up from the floor, his gazes tearing holes in Seth, with the ragged, wary panic in that gaze. Dean doesn’t look away this time, his breathing harsh and shallow as he draws closer, the two of them drifting towards each other like the two ends of an elastic band.

“What?” is all Dean manages, the word coming out choked and reed thin, Dean’s voice wavering.

The tone makes Seth’s throat threaten to close up, but he forces words out, unwilling to let Dean down this time, not when he actually knows what he wants, and apparently Dean and Seth’s desires line up perfectly this time around.

“You want what I want, for once in our lives. Can’t believe we managed it, but we are actually on the same page, for the first time in a long time,” Seth says with a slightly wistful smile, oddly thankful to his young, stupid self. He’d still go back and kick his own ass for being such an asshole, but Seth can’t complain too much if they figured their shit out in the end.

“But- you said… you didn’t-”

Seth frowns slightly, his heart stinging at the small, raspy voice coming out of Dean’s mouth. It hurts, reminding him of that horrible phone call, and his own inability to be the man he grew into (too late to do anything useful, of course). There are times Seth thinks that he got his life together just to prove that he could, to prove that that one horrible moment of failure wasn’t all that he was.

Seth thinks, slightly bitterly, that he does not deserve _this_.

But then, that really is not his decision to make.

“That was a long time ago. I was really, really, just spectacularly stupid back then. I didn’t not feel the way I feel about you now, but I did value your friendship, despite how much my actions proved otherwise. I should have done more for you then, but instead I pushed you away-”

Dean expression twists and and reaches down, grasping Seth’s hand that had absent-mindedly been stroking Dean’s forearm. Seth winces a bit at Dean’s death-grip, but doesn’t complain, the serious look on Dean’s face stalling all of Seth’s though process’.

“Is this some sort of, I dunno, repentance for-”

Seth holds up a hand, resisting the urge to look away in shame, like any time he is reminded of his past, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him that Dean is right to be so suspicious and that Seth has no right to even be telling Dean this particular truth. “No. I care about you. More than I care about basically anyone in my life right now. I want to stay up with you all night long and listen to your voice. I want to go run errands with you like an old married couple. I want to come see you at the Community Center, meet those kids down there that you are so proud of. I want-”

Dean clamps a hand over Seth’s mouth, Dean breathing heavy and his eyes softer than Seth has ever seen them. Well, that is not true. Their late-night chats have been getting very tender lately.

Seth realizes belatedly that this particular conversation is not that much of a surprise.

“Okay. I get it. You l-” Dean can't seem to finish the thought, not out loud at least. Not that it matters, it's written all over his face.

Seth reaches up, breaking Dean’s death-grip on his wrist before lacing their fingers together. Seth clasps his other hand over the fingers across his mouth, lowering Dean’s palm and speaking gently into the warm air between them.

“I love you. Didn’t mean to, but I do.”

Dean’s face shutters, like a slideshow, the softness flipping to apprehension, then relief.

“Okay. Cool. Good. Right.”

Seth can tell that Dean wants to say something else, so he gives him a few minutes. Dean doesn't seem to be able to gather himself though, as he just looks progressively more distressed and antsy as they stand there. Seth leans closer, bringing their tightly held hands up to his lips and planting a kiss across Dean’s knuckles.

“Just say what you want, Dean.”

And Seth really should have known better. Dean is an action kind of guy, not a talking kind of guy. Seth is actually really surprised that Dean managed to get this much coherent thought into words. It was only a matter of time, before Dean gave up on the whole ‘talking’ thing and went back to the ‘doing’.

(heh)

“Fuck,” is the only real warning Seth gets before he is being shoved backwards, the force of Dean slamming into him sending them both hurtling towards the wall. Seth has just enough wherewithal to remember that they are in a public place (where exactly, he has sort of forgotten, Dean’s lips touching the skin of his neck and a hot tongue leaving wet kisses across his collarbone seriously short-circuits his brain) and manages to steer them into the supply cupboard, their fumbling sending them crashing into a stack of boxes almost as soon as Seth closes the door.

Everything feels like a live wire, everywhere their skin touches alight with sizzling electricity. Seth grabs a handful of messy hair and pulls, biting into Dean’s mouth with sloppy, uncoordinated kisses that feel like the best thing that has ever happened to him. Dean makes a broken sound in the back of his throat, half whine, half sob and all hot as fuck. Seth is so tempted, in that moment, to just tear the clothes from the body in front of him, and get a look at the skin that he has been low-key hungering for, for the last threes weeks or so.

He stays his hand though, tempering himself and letting Dean set the pace, not wanting to scare him or make him uncomfortable. Dean seems anything but uncomfortable though, pressing into Seth’s touch with a desperation that Seth is sure he could get addicted to. With a growl, Dean pulls their mouths apart, lips wet and kiss-bitten, his eyes glittering in the dim light. Seth is achingly aware that he is not going to get to _see_ as much of this as he would like to, but fate has never given either of them everything that they wanted all at once.

“If you don't want-” Dean starts, his voice strained as he holds himself still as a statue, his limbs trembling with repressed need in all the paces their bodies meet.

Seth hooks his thumbs into Dean’s belt loops, dragging him down, ignoring the way the pile of boxes sags under their weight.

“Dean. Blow me.”

It’s not meant as a command, more an exasperated reassurance, that Seth is exactly where he needs to be, with exactly who he wants to be here with. Still, Dean is Dean, so he takes it literally, his eyes going wide and surprised, and then longing and lustful. Seth groans and Dean drops to his knees, unbuckling Seth’s pants with clammy, shaky fingers.

“Okay, I’m not saying I don’t want you to, because fuck yes I do, you have no idea. But you _do_ know you don’t actually have to, right-?” Seth gasps, getting a cheeky, desire-thrashed look for his trouble.

“Blow me, Seth,” Dean mutters with a moan, his voice muffled around the button of Seth’s jeans. Jeans that Dean is using his **teeth** to pry open. The button pops off finally, Seth almost beside himself with just the sight of Dean’s lips clasped around his fucking pants.

Jesus, he is such a goddamn goner.

“Later,” Seth promises, digging his fingers into Dean’s shoulder as Dean attempts and fails to take in all of Seth at once. Dean’s nothing if not stubborn though, so he tries again, this time going slightly slower, the soft noises he makes as he attempts to swallow Seth’s dick all at once too much, and not enough, for Seth to handle. Between the wet warmth of Dean’s mouth, and the earnest effort (spiked by desperate desire) in every flick of Dean’s tongue and press of his fingers, Seth is sure he can’t last.

Which, the sensible part of his brain informs him, is a good thing. This is not the time, or the place for this.

So Seth just gets lost in the feelings, loses himself in the slightly sloppy rhythm of Dean’s unsure movements, draws in lungfuls of their mutual need. He feels like he is floating in a world where only the two of them exist, only the two of them matter. He knows factually, that that is not true, but the real world will still be there when they come down from this high.

It’s sloppy, melodramatic, rough, angsty, and slightly dangerous. Basically, the essence of Dean Ambrose, Seth thinks, letting out a gasping chuckle just before his vision goes white and the world fades away for a few heartbeats.

“Sethy-kins. You okay?” is the first thing he registers, when he can think properly again.

“Hell yeah. You're fuckin’ good at that,” Seth says, pulling himself up as best he can and beaming brightly at Dean, pulling him in for a kiss that is all spit and affection.

“No, I’m not. You’ve got spunk on you jeans.”

Seth laughs at the concerned look on Dean’s face, watching as Dean carefully presses Seth’s now flaccid penis back into his boxers and fixes his jeans back.

“Yeah, you are. I’ll show you later. And you’ve got spunk on your cheek,” Seth says with a smirk, cupping Dean’s face and pulling him closer. Dean makes a startled sound and closes his eyes, blood rushing to his face as Seth licks the cum from Dean’s skin. Seth presses kisses across Dean’s face, feeling a possessive pull at the sight of this precious person, that he never thought he would have, sitting here in this dimly lit closet with Seth.

Not the most ideal of circumstances, but…

“Oh. Shit. Cathy. Renee.”

Seth stiffens, his hands still cupping Dean’s face, Dean’s eyes flitting up to meet his.

Fuck.

“Right. That’s gonna be a fun conversation. Do you want me to-”

Dean makes slightly apprehensive face, “You want to do that now?”

Seth settles his hands on Dean’s shoulders, leaning forward until their foreheads are touching. “Can’t put it off forever. And as much as I would like to do more of **this** right now, it would be in bad taste to do so when we are still attached. Maybe should have tempered ourselves a bit there, but…”

Dean sighs, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Seth’s forehead, then a soft one to his lips. “Guess you're right, Mr. Responsible Adult. Renee does deserve an explanation. Sorry about just tackling you by the way. Uh, I got a little over excited I guess.”

Seth shrugs, “It’s fine. If I had wanted you to stop I would have said so. Do you want me to go with you to talk to Renee, or…?”

“Nah, I’ll see you back at home. I-” Seth smiles at the little breath hitch, Dean’s voice catching on something. Instead of trying again, Dean just grasps Seth’s shoulders, pulling them bone-crushingly close together, their body heat exacerbated by the warmth in the closet and the humid air from their lovemaking. Seth sighs into the embrace, cradling Dean to him with a reverence that he is unsure Dean will ever be able to speak about out loud.

Still, this is Dean, and Seth is acutely aware of how life can be without him, and what it is like when they let each other close.

Seth wouldn’t trade this for the world.

* * *

“Dean?”

Dean forces himself to look Renee in the eye, knowing that he owes that much to her at least. He took a shower (he kind of didn’t want to, and Dean wonders what Seth would think about his desire to just sit around in Seth’s jizz) and came right here, interrupting the day out Renee and Cathy had been on. Seth and Cathy already walked off, Seth quietly speaking to Cathy, no doubt about Dean and Seth's reckless disregard for their current partner's feelings.

“Listen, hon- nope. Inappropriate. Shit, this is gonna be harder than I- fuck. I’m really, really sorry, alright? But you can’t ask me to regret it.”

Renee just looks really confused now, and Dean is still jelly-legged and fuzzy from the shenanigans in the closet.

He is so not going to do this right.

Well, he got what he never thought he would get, today or ever, so apparently that is the beginning and the end of his successes for the day.

“Me and Seth fucked.”

There. Got it out. Said it. Good job me.

Renee just stares at him, her gaze still confused and now a little hurt. Fuck. He is not good at this. Jesus she deserves better.

“What?”

“I know. Or, well I don’t know, because I haven’t been thinking about how you would feel about this at all, like the worst boyfriend in the world. Ever since I got done talking to Callihan this morning-”

Renee’s face clears a little, and though the hurt is still there, there is a hint of understanding, and Dean almost laughs.

Did _everyone_ know, except him and Seth?

“You went to see Callihan, finally?”

Dean wants to hug her, tell her how sorry he is, but he isn't sorry, not about sleeping with Seth at least. Sorry that they didn’t wait and talk to Renee and Cathy first, maybe, but never sorry that he finally told Seth what it feels like he has been waiting an entire lifetime to say.

As sad as that is.

“Yeah. He, well. You can guess what he said.”

Renee smiles then, and it’s not a full blown one, not her usual bloom of beauty and sass. The smile is small, and a little sad, but mostly knowing. She is looking at Dean searchingly, like she is looking for something. He straightens up, trying to give her whatever answers she is looking for, and determining to stop being such a pussy about this, in the face of her unflinching, head-on attitude about this whole thing.

Dean knows for a fact that if their roles were reversed he would not be handling this so calmly.

“Some variation of ‘for fuck’s sake Dean, you are in love with Seth Rollins’ I’m guessing?”

Dean makes an affronted noise, his anxiety put somewhat at ease with the amused lilt in her voice.

“Man, did everyone figure it out before I did?”

“Basically, yeah,” Renee says, reaching out and offering her hand. He takes her fingers in his carefully, feeling his heart clench at the gesture. She turns, walking down the street, away from the cafe Dean and Seth had found them at, heading who knows where while they talk.

“Come on, Dean. You have quite a story I’m sure, and we’ve got a whole afternoon for you to share it with me.”

And he does. They walk and talk for ages, only turning in when the sun has long ago disappeared over the horizon. It’s a bit awkward, but they agree to stay in the apartment, deciding to figure out who will be living where once the house is finally finished. Cathy and Renee disappear into the night, proclaiming it a girls night out in light of their broken hearts (which spawns a surprisingly light banter session about what horrible boyfriends Dean and Seth are, which is fair, so Dean and Seth join right in with the self deprecation) and Seth and Dean take up their now nightly places in the living room, though Seth doesn’t have any papers to grade.

Just the thought makes Dean flush, and if that isn’t the most awkward thing. He is never going to be able to bring Seth lunch in class anymore, without thinking about-

“Are, uh. You and Renee gonna be okay?” Seth asks, looking pensive.

“I think so. She’s not super mad. We talked for ages, and she was only ever sort wistful and sad that I didn’t think to tell her first.”

Seth looks slightly intrigued. “Yeah, that was Cathy’s main issue, which is totally understandable. We definitely could have handled that whole thing better. I hope this won’t be too goddamn awkward.”

Dean snickers, “Something tells me it will be, but whatever. Not like it’ll be the first time or the last time we all make each other uncomfortable.” Dean casts Seth a wary sideways look. “So, you and Cathy are cool?”

Seth makes a face and Dean’s heart sinks.

“She laughed for like fifteen minutes when I told her that you blew me in the supply cupboard at work.”

Ah.

Dean is aware that he is an asshole for giggling at that, but he doesn’t really care at the moment. He feels lighter than he has in years.

Seth glares and Dean tries to curb his chuckling. “Sorry, sorry. Not for the bj, for the laughing at you. At least she’s not pissed at you?”

Seth shrugs, “I imagine she is on some level. I did cheat on her,” they both glance away and there is a few heartbeats of shuffling an awkward silence as they let the shame of that particular lapse in judgement permeate the air for a heartbeat. Seth clears his throat after a breathless moment. “Anyway. Probably some anger there. Me and her will no doubt need to rebuild some trust together. And it will undoubtedly be really awkward for a while. But I think we will be okay. I still love her, I just- it’s awful to say, but you feel more important.”

Dean fights down the giddiness that confession draws out of him. “As long as this isn’t some charity case, because you feel bad or something-”

Seth looks so horrified for a heartbeat and Dean feels bad for even saying it at all, much less wording it like that.

“God, no. Dean. I want to be with you because I love your dumb, blunt, scruffy ass. Not because I feel guilty. Or because of any of the other shallow reasons your low self esteem and distrustful nature are telling you, either. Fuck.”

Deans shakes his head, reaching out tentatively. Seth notices and doesn’t reject his touch, clasping their palms together. Dean can’t help a smile, despite the suddenly tense air around them.

“Yeah, that was a fucked up thing to accuse you of. Didn't mean it quite like it came out. I just want this to be real, you know? It feels so fucking surreal. I never thought my life would end up this goddamn amazing. I don’t get nice things.”

Seth’s face relaxes a bit, a teasing light entering his soft gaze as he squeezes Dean’s fingers in his own. “I’m a nice thing?”

Dean’s grin turns salacious, his eyes trailing over Seth’s body in a comically exaggerated manner. “Yeah, you fuckin are.”

Dean let’s Seth preen over the compliment for a minute, before he lets the other shoe drop.

“When you're not babbling away as much.”

Seth doesn’t look as outraged at Dean’s teasing as Dean had thought he would. At first, Dean feels a peal of panic, wondering if he has somehow misjudged, and now that they are more than friends, their usual teasing is not allowed. Seth doesn't look mad either though, he just yanks Dean closer, Dean moving into him without complaint as Seth looks at him with a dark, smoldering look that makes Dean’s skin tingle.

“Then why don’t you give me something to occupy my lips, hm? I do believe I am owed a mouthful in return for earlier.”

Dean blinks, his body reacting far faster than his brain. Which is fine, as Seth is already tugging him towards the couch.

“Shit man, I get the couch treatment? Fuck, I feel really bad about the first time, then. All you got was a cardboard box up the ass and a stapler imprinted into your palm.”

Seth chuckles, shoving Dean lightly down onto the couch and sinking into the space between his knees, Dean not even hesitating as his legs fall open for Seth with an ease that feels practiced, despite the fact that he is unaccustomed to letting most people so close.

Which Dean realizes belatedly, is a weird thought. He had Seth's dick in his mouth just a few hours ago, for fuck's sake.

“Well then, you’ll just have to do it again to make up for it.” Dean shivers, burying a hand in dark hair as Seth speaks against the soft skin just under his navel, Seth’s fingers sliding up under the fabric of Dean’s boxers.

“Anytime you want,” Dean promises breathlessly, the nagging part of him that is usually opposed to making such statements blessedly silent for once. “Anytime you want, Seth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I dunno if 1 and 1/4ths of a poorly written bj is qualification for a Mature rating. Also, I had no idea what to tag this chapter, if you couldn't tell.
> 
> Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed! I did, it was fun writing about a couple that actually _get_ somewhere romance wise, as opposed to Forever Everything, which is just endless circles and angst. Also, sorry for the ending, I don't really do happy endings, so I'm sure it comes off as awkward. Apologies.
> 
> Anyway, fuck Christmas, happy Rusev day to all ^.^


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time, and the gang is separated, but making due with what they have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last chapter was too sad, so have an epilogue full of cliche'd Christmas shenanigans and floofy nonsense.

“Hey. Seth.”

Seth looks up at Dean, eyebrow raised in question, and a string of leaves wrapped haphazardly around his torso. Dean holds in a chuckle as Seth struggles with the pilfered electrical cord (that Cathy ingeniously thought to get the glow sticks from Renee’s glovebox and hook them along its length) dangling from his askew santa hat.

“What, Dean? Having issues with the tree?”

“Nah. I’ve got this on lock. But seriously, Seth.”

“I’m listening.”

Dean takes a moment to revel in the vaguely annoyed tone of Seth’s voice, smiling at the way Seth can’t stop the fondness from creeping into his voice, despite his attempt at irritation.

God, they are both such fuckin’ saps.

“I’ve got a brilliant idea.”

Seth sighs, looking heavenward before turning away from Dean, a small smirk on his face despite the dramatics. “I’m sure you do Dean. It would be unlike you not to. I’m going to regret asking this, but what is your clever idea?”

Dean hops up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement, throwing the handful of cloth over Seth, watching the way the thin strips of cloth cascade over him, adding to the already messy amalgamation of makeshift leaf-garland and jury-rigged christmas lights.

“I found something that’ll work for tinsel, Sethy-kins!”

Seth blinks down at the cut up drapes listing off of his chest, reaching up and catching one on the way down. He looks confused, but when he brings it up for a closer look, his expression clears.

“My mom is going to beat you to death for cutting up her drapes,” Seth deadpans, looking at Dean flatly, even as he bends down to gather up the fallen strips of cloth.

Dean snort derisively. “The hell she is. Your mom loves me.”

Seth elbows Dean sightly as he draws closer, carefully laying the pieces of cloth over the scraggly little birch tree that they managed to pull up out of the ground. Dean elbows him back, then laughs and accepts the peck on the lips that Seth goes for, smiling softly as Seth pulls back, Seth’s hands still cold from their snowball fight earlier as he gently lays the leaf garland around Dean’s neck.

“No swearing on christmas,” Seth murmurs softly, smiling into another kiss that is just starting to get good when a cough from behind them interrupts Dean’s fuzzy thoughts.

“Oh fuck me, seriously? Why did _I_ have to get stranded here, with you assholes?” Sami barks, stomping over with an armful of logs. Seth looks less than apologetic, but he does step back, letting his string of glow sticks smack Sami on his way over to the fireplace.

“Lighten up Callihan. It’s Christmas. Maybe you’ll even get stuck under the mistletoe with one of us, eh?”

Sami looks supremely horrified by just the thought, opening his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Galina’s crackling voice, emanating from Seth’s laptop that is precariously perched on a stack of cardboard boxes that they are using as a coffee table.

“Do you guys even have mistletoe over there? Does it grow in ohio?” She asks, a laughing lilt to her voice as she carefully maneuvers her heavily pregnant form around her husband (who is playing Mrs. Claus on the floor as Joelle!Santa orders her imaginary elves around) decorating her own tree along with them, through the thousands of miles separating them.

They said they were going to do christmas together this year, and no amount of vacations gone wrong and traveling mishaps are going to stop them.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got the perfect thing!” Shouts Renee, busting in the front door to the cabin with Cathy, Renee’s blond hair flying around her face and her cheeks rosy from the cold as Cathy dances into the room like she can’t feel the cold at all. Renee doesn't bother to brush the snow off, and Sami balks, walking over to shove her back over the threshold, her startled laugh ringing out through the tiny cabin.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“You are going to make it even colder in here than it already is,” Sami grouses, reaching up on his toes to dust the snow from her hair, making a disgruntled noise as Renee peels her parka off and shoves it at him, her smile bright and infectious as she pokes him in the cheek.

Dean desperately resists the urge to make a crack about Callihan being short.

“Yes mom. I’ll remember next time, I swear. I’ll pick my toys up off the stairs while I’m at it. But first!” She stands up tall, bouncing as she takes her boots off, handing them to Callihan and taking her now snow-free coat back and hanging it up on the rusty coat-rack by the door.

“I found some dried up poinsettias in the shed! That's about as close to mistletoe as we are gonna get, boys,” She declares happily, shuffling around the cramped living room and over to the single open doorway in the cabin. She motions Cathy over, and Cathy crouches down, lacing her fingers together and hoisting Renee up so she can affix the shriveled plant to the wood with a thumbtack she must have dug up from somewhere.

“Great,” Sami says with little enthusiasm, clacking her boots against the porch a few times before depositing them under the coat rack and heading back over to the fireplace. Dean gives him a pat on the back as Sami moves past him, grinning jovially at his friend-turned-therapist-turned friend again.

“Hey, you might actually get that kiss after all.”

“Maybe Santa will give you one,” Seth chimes in helpfully, sticking out his tongue in response to the eye roll he gets from Callihan.

“The fff-”Callihan trails off unsubtly, glancing over at the laptop, his lips twitching as Roman gets roped into being Rudolf, because Joelle is preparing to deliver toys to all the good boys and girls. “Mmmfr. I’m Mom, not Grandma. I don’t want Santa kisses.”

Galina raises her eggnog at Sami, in appreciation for his withholding the swears, although he tosses a dollar into the collection jar they have going on the coffee table/box stack anyway.

(Renee had had a hell of a time weaving the leaves together, before Cathy laughed at her suffering and took over. The swear jar is about half full, and Dean is pretty sure they will be able to put both Joelle and the not-as-of-yet-born baby through college after all this is said and done.)

Joelle pops up in the shot again, as if Dean’s thoughts summoned the little she-devil.

“You don’t want kisses from Santa?” She pouts severely, her eyes serious and sorrowful as she leans really close to the screen, her voice going slightly robotic over the strained connection.

Seth holds in a chuckle and Dean and Renee outright laugh as Callihan’s couternance immediately softens. He looks genuinely guilty, and stumbles over his explanation to her as he finally gets the tinder in the fireplace to light, looking over his shoulder at the computer as he does so.

“Not at all little bird! I would never says no to magical Santa kisses, no matter how much they smell like peanut butter and crayons. I just meant that I don’t want to kiss any of these dorks. I have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

“Okay!” She crows, instantly pacified, leaning even more into the camera and giving it a big wet smack. Callihan actually leans toward the screen and then pulls back, grinning triumphantly and flashing her a thumbs up as he mimes wiping spit off of his cheek. She giggles in delight before dashing off, declaring that they have to get the toys to the children, and that Sami is the most-goodest-boy of all.

Dean laughs out loud at the proud look on Callihan’s face at the compliment.

As Galina wipes the computer down on her end, Renee declares that she needs help carrying the trays of cookies that she and Seth made earlier. Dean finally manages to get the tree to stand up somewhat straight and heads over, bumping shoulders happily with Cathy and Seth as he goes, listening to them giggle and feeling lighter than air.

Before they can get all the trays set out (does Santa need six dozen cookies?) the computer blips softly, Callihan moving away from the fire to add the rest of their entourage to the skype call.

Excitement pulsing through them, Dean, Cathy, Renee and Seth all rush over, getting stuck in a four person pile up in the doorway. Callihan doesn’t even look up on his way over to the laptop, his expression barely changing as he watches them struggle out of the corner of his eye.

“Looks like that ‘mistletoe’ came in handy after all, yeah?”

Dean blinks, then grins nervously as Renee contemplates the wilted poinsettia thoughtfully and Seth looks at Dean with a somewhat unsure expression.

Cathy, being Cathy, breaks the tension by grasping Dean by the lapels and hauling him forward, crushing their lips together in a kiss that starts off harsh but ends up slow as they gently drift apart. Dean glances over at Seth, who looks intrigued, a sparkle in his eyes. Seth in turn looks at Renee, who leans over and pecks him on the lips. The peck turns into a lick, then a longer kiss-

“Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” asks Cathy in a faux whisper, leaning close to Dean who exaggeratedly fans himself in response.

“It’s just you. Would you guys keep it in your pants for five minutes? Jesus,” Callihan mutters, although Dean catches the smug look on his face.

He really is going to have to have a talk with Callihan about all these things that Callihan knows about him and never tells him. Does he have to be so right all the time?

“Hold on a sec,” Dean says, very little apology in his voice as he smooches Renee pulling her away from the doorway as he does so. Seth twirls Cathy around, making her laugh free and easy as they pepper each other with kisses.

“You okay?” Dean asks, when they wind down, snatching Seth’s wrist up as Cathy and Renee dance over to the computer, heckling Callihan about his miserable technology failures.

Seth plants one on his mouth, just a quick, soft kiss, full of promises and reassurances. “Yeah. Great, actually. You?”

Dean lets Seth guide him over to the laptop, grasping Renee’s hand and lacing their fingers together when they get there. She smiles at him with that brilliant smile, her eyes lighting up and her body pressing snug to his. Cathy moves behind them, draping her arms over the three of them, kissing Renee’s palm when she reaches back to touch her.

“I’ve never been better,” Dean decides, leaning back into the warm embrace he is currently wrapped in.

Callihan smiles gently when they all get situated. “Allright. The gangs all here. Ready boys and girls?”

Galina smiles as her screen is shifted, Joelle bouncing in excitement, her previous games forgotten in favor of getting attention from family.

Dean lets out a chuckle as the split screen pops up, Sami, Sasha, Bayley, Finn, Taguchi, and Jimmy’s faces all crammed into the shot as they screech their holiday greetings, Kevin and Joe off in the background looking somewhat less enthusiastic, but smiling despite themselves.

“Let the festivities commence!” Galina declares, raising her eggnogg glass to raucous applause.


End file.
